


Rewrite of Lancelot, S1E5 of Merlin

by AllThingsEnd



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Merlin, Camelot, Episode: s01e05 Lancelot, First Time, Gay Sex, Lancelin, Low-key Slow Burn, M/M, Merthelot, Merthur - Freeform, Merthur Smut, Oral Sex, Rewrite, SOFT GAYS, Sex, Smut, Top Arthur, Top Lancelot, bbc merlin - Freeform, bbc merlin but its gay, complex gay relationship, first time gay sex, gay kiss, gay merlin, maybe threeway? have not decided, merlin and arthur - Freeform, merlin and lancelot, verse Lancelot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:47:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27692989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllThingsEnd/pseuds/AllThingsEnd
Summary: I am rewriting the episode of Merlin 'Lancelot' as if the show Merlin had balls - I mean was written for an older audience. So you can be sure it is gonna be a hella lot more gay.
Relationships: Lancelot/Merlin (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 192





	1. Chapter 1

The sun was arced just past noon, bright and yellow. Young Merlin crouched on the forest floor, amidst the ancient trees and the shifting patterns of shadow and sun. He sifted through the leaves, pulling plump brown mushrooms from the ground when he found them. He plucked one from the earth and examined it closely, nodded in approval, and tossed it into his basket. The day had been quiet, mostly just his usual errands – cleaning out the stables, tidying Arthur’s room and waiting on him a while, helping Gaius with a few cures and potions, and now gathering herbs and mushroom. Another hour in the woods and he should have enough to return without receiving the Eyebrow of Disapproval from Gaius.

The universe had other plans. The peaceful quiet was suddenly split by a piercing shriek, a violent hissing speeding from the woods to assault him. Merlin look around quickly, scared and confused, and there it was. A massive eagle, whooping low out of the sky… no, wait, it was galloping toward him, a lion… it was both! A monstrous creature, fangs and talons and muscle and wings, bounding at him. His heart in his throat, he dropped his basket and turned to run, but his legs caught on each other and he hit the ground hard. ‘Use magic!’ he pleaded with himself, but no spell or enchantment came to mind, and all he could do was pull into himself, curl into a ball and close his eyes tight. But the blow never came. Instead he heard the hollering of a man, and the footsteps of one, and when he opened his eyes there he stood. There was a blinding flash as the man’s sword cast the sun’s rays into Merlin’s eyes, and he turned away and buried his face in his hands. There was a great clamor behind him, yelling and hissing and panting and the sound of a sword slicing the air. At length there was a bellow that could only have come from the monster, for no man could produce such a sound, and then the forest grew quiet, save for the heavy breathing of the man. Merlin slowly uncovered his eyes, and turned his face from the ground to face the battleground.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, and then he saw the silhouette of a warrior against the vibrance of the sun. He was tall, with hair below his ears and shoulders broad and weary. He turned slowly toward Merlin, sheathing his sword with a deep breath. His face came into focus, strong-jawed and sturdy. Merlin squinted at him, breathing heavy, doing his best to process what had just transpired. Before he could, however, the woods behind the stranger crashed to life as the beast prepared for a second assault. The man held his hand out, which Merlin instinctively took, and he hauled him to his feet shouting “Run! Run!”

Side by side Merlin sprinted away with the stranger, fleeing the screeching beast. Together they leapt over a felled tree, and the man pulled Merlin roughly to the ground and they hid behind the log. The creature swept low, then soared up and away from them, disappearing into the afternoon sky with a sickening howl.  
Merlin gathered himself, eyes wide, doing his best to fill his startled lungs with air. At length he looked over at the man sitting beside him, and he returned his gase.  
“You saved my life,” was all Merlin could muster at first, then he found his manners. “Merlin,” he introduced himself.  
“Lancelot,” the man replied, and promptly fainted. Merlin scrambled to his knees to examine him. The man’s hand fell limp from his lap, and revealed a growing spot of blood.

“Right,” Merlin mumbled to himself, and got to work.


	2. Chapter 2

Gaius sat beside the bed, inspecting the wound in the man’s side. Lancelot was tall for the bed, his feet sticking out over the footboard. He shown with a layer of sweat, and his shirt clung to him as Gaius pulled it back to better see the injury.

“The wound itself is superficial,” Gaius explained as Merlin joined him. Lancelot moaned in his sleep. “The fever will pass. He should be fine by the morning.” Merlin saw the wound was indeed shallow, a wide incision across the man’s firm stomach. Gaius replaced the shirt, and Lancelot shuddered and sighed.

“He saved my life,” Merlin explained. “There was this creature… I couldn’t think of any magic to use, I don’t know why.” Merlin watched the man’s eyebrows pull together in the discomfort of his fever, his lips silently part, his dark hair sticking to the pillow. “I would be dead,” Merlin muttered.

“Then let’s be grateful this Lancelot was there to save you,” Gaius said, and stood. “Now come on, he is going to be fine. You best get back to Arthur.”

“He’s out with the king, investigating reports of…”

“Of what?”

“Of a beast attacking villages.” Merlin looked up at Gaius. “What do you think the odds are they’re looking for the same beast that attacked me?”

Gaius’ eyebrow arced up his forehead. “I would like to say high, but this is Camelot.”

Merlin pulled a face. “Either way, I best have Arthur’s chambers made up before he returns. I’ll be back tonight.”

Arthur and the king returned late that afternoon. They dined together, no doubt discussing what was to be done, and by the time Arthur came up for bed, it was dark out.

“Merlin,” he said as he walked into his chambers.

“Sire?”

“No doubt you had an easy day, with me being gone?”

“Still had your chores to do, though, didn’t I?” Arthur ignored this, and started undressing for bed. “Anything else you need, sire?”

Arthur turned to him. “You seem anxious to go.” He smirked. “Got a girl waiting in your bed, do you?”

“A man, but same idea.” Merlin answered, and immediately regretted. Arthur’s smirk turned into raised eyebrows. “I mean, no, I meant, Gaius and I have a patient, and I am meant to look after him tonight, that’s all. I meant-“

“Merlin,” Arthur cut him off. “What you do in your chambers is none of my business.”

“No, sire-“

“Honestly, Merlin, its none of my business. Although I suggest you keep it between you and whoever this man is. My father is not so open to such things. But like I said, what you do in your chambers is your business, but what you do in my chambers is my business.” Merlin looked at him, confused. “So will you tell me why my bed looks like you made it up with your elbows?” 

Merlin glanced at the bed. It was indeed in shambles.

“Sorry, sire, I am distracted today.”

“Indeed. Well go on, make it up.”

“Now? But you’re about to get in anyway-“

“Look at the state of the bottom sheet, Merlin-“

“Fine, fine!” He crossed to the bed and began pulling the sheets taught. Arthur stood behind him waiting, arms folded across his bare chest. He watched his servant lean over the bed, bending forward… and he looked away. “Done, sire.” Arthur looked back to find Merlin standing beside a perfectly made bed.

“Yes. Good.” Arthur flung the sheets back and crashed on to the bed, wrinkling it immediately. Merlin clenched his jaw and stared at the wall, composing himself. Typical.

“Will that be all?”

“Yes, Merlin. Go to your boy.”

“Arthur-“

“No, you’re right. Your ‘man.’”

Merlin couldn’t think of anything clever to say to this, so after a moment he simply bid the prince goodnight, blew out the candle, and left.

Gaius was at his desk when Merlin got back to the physician’s room, reading an ancient book by candlelight. Merlin looked around.

“Where is Lancelot?”

“In your bed,” Gaius answered without looking up.

“My bed?”

“Yes, well, I couldn’t very well have him staying in mine all night.” He looked up. “Where would I sleep?”

“Well, now where am I supposed to sleep?” Merlin asked.

“I laid a blanket out on your floor for you.” Merlin was about to protest, but Gaius looked at him through his brows. “You don’t expect me, and old man, to sleep on the floor? Or perhaps a wounded patient in the midst of a fever?”

He had a point.

“Right. Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight, Merlin.”

Merlin made his way up the stairs to his room, and quietly closed the door behind him. Lancelot was indeed in his bed, his legs hanging even further off the bottom than they had been in Gaius’ bed. Merlin’s blanket only came down to cover his shins. Merlin sighed, and picked up the blanket Gaius had laid out for him and cast it over Lancelot’s feet, covering them. He pulled an old book off the shelf, its leather cover softened by decades of use, and laid down with that as a makeshift pillow.

“Goodnight, Lancelot,” he mumbled. Lancelot’s only response was his breathing, and the occasional grunt. “Goodnight, Merlin,” Merlin said to himself, and got as comfortable as possible for the night.


	3. Chapter 3

“All my life, I’ve dreamed of coming here. It’s my life’s ambition to join the Knights of Camelot.” Lancelot stood at the window of Merlin’s room, looking out over the city surrounding the citadel. Merlin watched him from the chair, a small grin gracing his face. Lancelot looked over at him and he shrugged, which Lancelot mistook for a lack of faith in his dreams. “I know what you’re thinking, I expect too much. After all, who am I? They have their pick of the best and bravest in the land…” he was back to looking out the window.

“Lancelot.” Merlin regained his gaze.

“Yes?”

Merlin leaned forward in the chair, looking hard at the man, the corners of his mouth pulled up into a smile. “They are going to love you.”

“They are?”

Merlin laughed softly, happily. “I’ve seen you in action! You could shame the great Author himself.” At which Lancelot scoffed, but smiled.

“I hardly think so,”

“In fact…” Merlin’s face turned serious as his scheme bloomed in his mind. “You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to talk to him right now.” Merlin popped out of the chair and made for the door. Lancelot watched him in disbelief.

“You know Arthur?”

Merlin stopped and looked back at Lancelot. He grinned. “Oh, yes.”

Merlin burst into Arthur’s chambers, much to the prince’s annoyance.

“Merlin!”

“Sorry, sire-“

“You’re late, where have you been? Help me get ready for training. We have new initiates today.”

Merlin crossed to him and helped him secure his pauldron, then reached around his middle to fasten the belt around the red tunic that hung over his haubergeon.

“You’re testing new knights today?”

“Yes, Merlin, and the prince can’t very well be late. Sword.” Merlin handed Arthur his weapon. “Good. Let’s go.” Merlin dutifully followed Arthur out to the fields alongside the citadel, where a great company of men was already assembled. There were walls put up, each holding shields bearing the crests of the hopeful warriors, and tables set out with helmets and swords. Servants stood behind their masters with water sacks and extra weapons, awaiting orders.

Lancelot was standing a bit away from the group, right where Merlin had told him to meet them. He watched in awe as Merlin and Arthur strode onto the field together, then Merlin broke off to come meet him.

“I honestly didn’t know if I believed you or not,” he breathed.

Merlin was beaming. “C’mon, let’s watch,” he waved Lancelot over, and they watched as Arthur threw insults and encouragements alike at a particularly large man wielding two swords.

“You face the most feared of all foes. The ultimate killing machine. You face me.”

Usually Merlin would have rolled his eyes or scoffed at this, but in this moment he was proud of Arthur’s confidence, proud to show Lancelot the man he served. Prouder still when the fight was over in three moves, and Grimond, second son of Wessex, was flat on his back, unconscious. Arthur sighed, disappointed, and lazily pulled the flag from Grimond’s belt. “Take him away,” he ordered some men standing by.

Merlin, leaning on the sword rack, looked up at Lancelot with a grin, which Lancelot met with an uncertain shake of his head.

“I’ll have to help him now, but I’ll find you later!” Merlin called to Lancelot, and scurried after Arthur, who was already undressing. Merlin grabbed a shield and held it out for Arthur to pile his armor on top of.

“Grimond’s the third to fail this month!” Arthur exclaimed, wrapping his sword belt around the hilt. Merlin hurried to keep up with the awkward pile of armor. “How am I meant to defend Camelot with rubbish like that?”

“Well, I think I might be able to help,” Merlin piped up. Arthur barely glanced over at him.

“You, Merlin? You havn’t the faintest idea what it takes to be a knight. Courage, fortitude, discipline.” Arthur added his sword to Merlin’s burden.

“No, no no, of course I don’t. But I do know somebody who does,’

“Yeah?” Now Arthur did look back a moment.

“He saved my life,” Merlin explained. 

Arthur scoffed. “That’s blowing it for starters.”

“No no no he’s really good, honestly.”

“That’s great Merlin. I’m sure he’s terrific. But you forget the first code of Camelot.” Arthur stopped walking and turned to face Merlin.

“The what?”

“The first code: only those of noble blood can serve as knights.” Merlin looked away, thinking. “So, unless your friend is a nobleman-“ Arthur tossed his gloves onto the shield. Merlin looked back at him.

“Oh, he is. A nobleman.”

“Is he?” This, Arthur had not been expecting. How could his manservant know any nobles, other than himself?

“Absolutely.” He was, in fact… a noble man.

“Very well. Bring him to the training ground tomorrow. And make sure he brings his seal of nobility.” Arthur departed, leaving Merlin to deal with the armor.

“Thanks Arthur!” Merlin called after him. “You won’t regret it!”

‘But I might,’ he thought to himself on the way to the armory. He dealt with the armor as quickly as he could, then hurried back to his and Gaius’ rooms. As soon as he opened the door, Lancelot ran up to him.

“Well? Did you speak to him?” He asked, his face grave.

“Yes, I spoke to him.”

“And?”

“And…” Merlin feigned a disappointed look, with downcast eyes and even a little shake of his head. But he could not hold it long, and burst into a grin. “He said he would like to meet you!”

“Yes!” Lancelot could hardly believe it. He beamed, and gripped Merlin’s arms tightly. “Thank you! Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, really. It’s nothing.” Now to break the rest of the news. Merlin cleared this throat. “You’re not a nobleman by any chance, are you?”

“A nobleman?” Lancelot was amused. “No,” he said with a gesture to himself, as though it should have been obvious from his face that he was lowborn. “Good lord, no. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that-“

“The first code of Camelot” Gaius jumped into the conversation from his desk behind Merlin, “states that only those of noble blood can serve as a knight.” Lancelot tried to hide his confusion and disappointment from his face. “Uther created the knights to protect this kingdom from those who wished to destroy it. He knew he would have to trust each of his knights with his life. So he chose them from the families that had sword allegiance to him.”

“The nobility,” Merlin added. Lancelot sat down, dejected.

“And thus the first code of Camelot was born. And ever since that day, only the sons of noble families have served as knights.”

Merlin huffed angrily. “That is not fair!”

“Fair or unfair, that is the way it is. I am sorry, Lancelot. Truly I am.” Gaius looked between the two young men, then returned to his work. Lancelot hung his head.

“Come on,” Merlin held out his hand. After a moment, Lancelot took it, but instead of Merlin helping him to his feet, he nearly pulled Merlin down with his strength. Lancelot caught him with a hand on his chest.

“Oh, I’m sorry!”

Merlin laughed. “This is what I mean, Camelot needs knights as strong as you!” Lancelot smiled awkwardly, standing up on his own. “I have to go back to Arthur, but I’ll be back tonight. Make yourself at home.” Lancelot nodded. Merlin made to leave, but Lancelot reached out and took his arm.

“Merlin.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. Really, thank you.” The way he was looking into Merlin’s eyes, he knew he meant it. “You have done more for me today than anyone else has my entire life.” Merlin gave him a small smile.

“You’re welcome.” Lancelot released his arm, and Merlin started to the door, then called over his shoulder “You can thank me by cleaning my room!”

“Merlin!” Gaius scolded, but Merlin was gone. Lancelot smiled, and went up into the small room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a head's up, I realized I had no tags beyond what characters were involved, so I added those. I suggest giving them a once-over, not necessarily for this chapter, but definitely for the ones in the future.

When Merlin at last got back to his chambers that night, it was indeed tidier than he had left it. Lancelot was sitting on the bed, reading.

“Wow,” Merlin said as he entered. “I was joking but, thank you.”

“To be fair you do not have a lot of things.” Lancelot put the book down and stood up.

“Hand me that candle?” Merlin pointed to the bedside table, then took the candle over to his hanging lantern and lit that. It did little to brighten the room, but it was still dusk, so that with the window offered sufficient light. “Why do you want to be a knight so much?”

“When I was a boy, my village was attacked by raiders from the Northern plains.” He told the story with a heavy heart, and a low, gentle voice. Merlin crossed to the bed and sat. “They were slaughtered where they stood. My father, my mother. Everyone. I alone escaped. I vowed that day that never again would I be helpless in the face of tyranny.” As he spoke, the passion in his voice rose. “I made swordcraft my life. Every waking hour since that day, I devoted to the art of combat. And when I was ready, I set forth for Camelot.” He forced a small smile, but it faded almost immediately. “And now it seems my journey ends. Everything I fought for, wasted.” He sat down beside Merlin.

“I give you my word,” Merlin told him softly, “whatever it takes, I will make this right.” Lancelot looked at him, and found him sincere. He nodded, and his gaze dropped from Merlin’s eyes to his lips.

‘God’s bones,’ he thought, but this had not been part of the plan. And yet he found himself closing the distance between he and this gorgeous young man, and all of the sudden his lips were pressed against Merlin’s.

Merlin jumped and pulled back, mouth ajar, eyes wide. They were both speechless for a moment, before Lancelot sprang up from the bed and found his voice.

“I apologize. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He put a hand over his mouth, as though his lips were now an insulting thing for Merlin to see. He avoided eye contact. “I am so sorry, Merlin, forgive me.” Lancelot turned and hurried to the door, and before Merlin knew it he was gone.

Merlin was frozen to the bed. What. Had just happened. He gently touched his own lips, remembering the startling sensation.

“Lancelot?” Gaius’ voice floated up the stairs, and snapped Merlin back into reality.

“I’m sorry, Gaius, I was just going-“

“At this hour?”

“I need to-“

“Lancelot.” He was at the door, hand on the knob but turned at the sound of Merlin’s voice. Merlin was just at the base of the stairs. All was quiet for a moment.

“What is going on?” Gaius asked sharply.

“Nothing,” Merlin answered, never taking his eyes off of Lancelot. “Lancelot was just coming back.” There was a moment more of silence.

“Yes?” Lancelot asked softly. Merlin nodded, and a slightly embarrassed smile broke over Lancelot’s face. He crossed to Merlin, and followed him up the stairs. The door closed, and Gaius was left standing at his desk, abundantly confused.

Lancelot had been the one to close the door, but as soon as he did so, he felt it had been too bold a move. He stood with his back to it, waiting for Merlin to say something.

“Lancelot,” Lancelot looked up. “Do that again. Please.”

The corners of his mouth immediately pulled up into a smile, and he crossed the room and confidently kissed Merlin, putting his hands on the young man’s waist. He felt Merlin’s hands reach around him and press into his back. With small movements Lancelot rocked his head forward and back, their lips pressed together, sending a flurry of sensation up Merlin’s spine.

Lancelot broke the kiss, pulling back slightly and looking into Merlin’s eyes, which were just below his own level.

“What should, I mean, do we- what do you- I don’t know what you want to do. I-”

“Neither do I,” Merlin admitted, then leaned in to resume the kiss. He really did not know what he was doing, but Lancelot seemed to well enough. The knight-to-be was gentle, skillfully working their lips together, strong hands holding Merlin’s waist firmly, but tenderly. Lancelot seemed to sense that Merlin was uncertain about what to do, for he was doing most of the work, and his hand slid up Merlin’s side and wrapped around his back, pulling him in closer in a sort of hug.

The moment Merlin felt himself being held, he realized how exhausted he was. The comfort of being in somebody’s arms, somebody who knew about his magic no less… being able to let his guard down for a moment, he realized he had not felt this way in weeks. Or, this specific way, in ever. He sank into Lancelot’s embrace, who deepened the kiss and, to Merlin’s slight surprise, reached his tongue into Merlin’s mouth a little.

After a moment Merlin pulled back a little, breathing heavy. He had never been kissed like that before, never been held in such a way. It almost broke his heart, it felt so good.

“Lance-“ he began, but was cut off as Lancelot rushed in for another kiss, his hands jumping up to the sides of Merlin’s head, cupping his face and pulling him in. He broke the kiss only to tilt his head another way and seal it again, breathing in Merlin’s scent, pressing every possible centimeter of their lips together. Then, just as quickly, he withdrew.

“You’re tired,” he whispered, to which Merlin nodded. “Come.” He took Merlin’s hands in his own, and led him to the small bed. 

“We might be better off on the floor,” Merlin offered.

“Right you are.” They pulled the pillow and blankets to the floor, setting one blanket down beneath them and pulling the other over them as they lay down. Lancelot cradled Merlin in front of him, cupping his body with his own like a set of spoons. He laid an arm over him, and Merlin took that hand and held it in his own, just below his chin.

“Goodnight Lancelot,” Merlin said quietly.

“Goodnight, Merlin,” Lancelot responded, his voice low and smooth, right by Merlin’s ear.

Merlin was asleep within the minute.


	5. Chapter 5

Merlin was on a servant’s schedule. Awake before his master, to bed after his master. When he woke up, Lancelot was still fast asleep. They had shifted during the night, so it was easy for Merlin to slip out from under the blanket without disturbing the other man.

Gaius, too, was up. 

“Good morning, Merlin. You look well slept.”

“Oh I am.” He grabbed a crust of bed from off the table. “Must be off, though. Arthur due to wake up any minute.”

“Is that the same shirt from yesterday?” Gaius asked after him.

“I only have two shirts, Gaius! Of course it’s the same one from yesterday.” And then he disappeared out the door.

Merlin ran through the castle, doing his best to keep his footsteps quiet. It was early enough still that only a few scattered guards and servants were about, and the halls were lit by the pale dawn streaming in from the windows. Any torches still burning from the night before were low and dim. Merlin swung by the kitchens and picked up Arthur’s breakfast, as well as a few small tomatoes for himself, at which one of the cooks growled.

When he swung Arthur’s bedroom door open and found the prince still fast asleep, he sighed with relief. He set the plate and pitcher onto the table, crossed to the window, and flung open the curtain.

“Time to wake, my lord.” Arthur responded with a low grumble, but did not wake. “Sire, busy day! Come on!” The prince scrunched his eyes up tight, pulling the blanket up over his eyes. His bare shoulders rolled until they settled into a comfortable position again. “Sire, I really don’t want to do this, but-“ Merlin reached over the bed and took hold of the blanket, making ready to pull it off Arthur. But the moment his fingertips touched the cloth, Arthur’s hands shot out and grabbed him by the collar, twisting and dragging Merlin over him, slamming him into the bed beside and jumping on top of him. Merlin gave a shout and clawed at Arthur’s forearms, but his hands were tight around his throat. “Ah- Arth-!” 

As though he just then woke up, Arthur blinked suddenly and released Merlin, backing off him and off the bed. 

“Merlin?” Arthur asked. Merlin rubbed his throat as he sat up, eyeing Arthur warily.

“Yes! Who did you think I was?”

“I don’t know, I, uh-“ Arthur shifted uncomfortably. “You startled me, that’s all. What were you doing grabbing me like that!”

“Trying to wake you, I-“

“What on earth are you doing on my bed!”

“You- I- I’m sorry sire!” Merlin scrambled to his feet. There was a violently awkward moment, then Merlin pointed at the food he had put on the table. “Breakfast, sire.”

“Right,” Arthur muttered. He ate quickly, and Merlin helped him dress. Together they went to training, then Merlin left to help Gaius with his rounds as Arthur joined his father to discuss matters of the court. Before going back to meet Gaius, however, Merlin stopped by the library.

He searched amongst the genealogy books, avoiding the librarian Geoffrey of Monmouth’s suspicious gaze as best he could. He soon found a suitable crest, bearing the image and name of a family known well enough to be recognized, but not too well known so that others present may know Lancelot was not truly of them. He quietly recanted a replication spell, casting the exact image of the crest on to a blank sheet of paper he had brought. And just in time he tucked the new seal into his jacket and slammed the book shut, as Geoffrey snuck up behind him. Merlin casually handed him the book.

“Its, um, a real page turner.” And he hurried off before Geoffrey could reply.

On the way back to Gaius’ rooms, Merlin had to keep himself from running, he was so excited to give Lancelot the news. But amidst his thoughts of Lancelot, all the sudden Arthur’s face flashed before his eyes, his eyes looking down at him, his hands around his neck… He shook the image from his mind. It wasn’t the first time Arthur had tackled him, though to be fair that usually happened during training, when the knights had broken all the dummies and Arthur needed a body to practice on. At first, Arthur had let the other knights abuse Merlin, as well, but a few weeks into it, he had decided Merlin was for him alone. Needed his manservant to be able to walk, he said, or else who would muck out his stables?

Perhaps the image was staying with him because, purely by chance, the morning’s encounter with Arthur meant Merlin had physically been in a bed with two different men that morning alone. A stupid thought, of course. It did not mean anything, no matter how he looked at it. He smiled a little at his own stupidity, and shook the thought away. By now, he was at the door, and he stepped in to find Lancelot carving up an apple with a small knife. Gaius was nowhere to be seen.

Merlin proudly lofted the rolled parchment.

“What’s that?” Lancelot asked.

“This,” Merlin said dramatically, smiling wide, “is your seal of nobility.”

Lancelot returned his focus to the apple in his hands. “I don’t understand.”

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Merlin unfurled that paper, displaying the image, “I give you, Lancelot! Fifth son of Lord Eldred of Northumbria.”

Lancelot immediately shook his head. “No, Merlin. No.”

“Oh, oh right. So you don’t want to be a knight, then?” Merlin made a show of rolling the paper back up and turning away.

“Of course I do!” Lancelot snapped. Merlin faced him once again.

“But what? The rules don’t allow it? Damn the rules! The rules are wrong!”

“But it’s a lie! It’s against everything the knights stand for.”

“You have as much right to be a knight as any man.” Merlin stepped toward Lancelot, pointing firmly at him with the roll of parchment. “I know it.” Lancelot moved around the table and approached Merlin.

“But the rules, Merlin.”

“We’re not breaking the rules. We’re bending them! That’s all.” Lancelot’s eyes were downcast, so Merlin put his finger under his chin, raising his gaze to meet his own. “You get your foot in the door! But after that, you’ll be judged on your merit alone.” Lancelot must have finally been considering it, because he excitedly grabbed Merlin’s waist and pulled him close. Merlin grinned, and kept hyping him up. “And if you succeed, if they make you a knight… it will be because you-“ he pecked Lancelot’s lips with his own- “have-“ another quick kiss- “earned it.”

Lancelot allowed himself to smile, which broadened when Merlin draped his arms over his shoulders.

“I can’t change the way things are done around here,” Merlin said, suddenly straight faced and serious. “But you can. If you let me help you.” Lancelot thought for a moment more, and then nodded. “Yes!” Merlin kissed him hard, in his excitement squeezing the paper. They burst apart at the crinkling sound, but laughed when they found the crest unharmed. Lancelot took the parchment from Merlin and laid it on the table, then grabbed the young man’s wrist and pulled him back into a deep kiss.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> s3xy time

Somewhere in his busy schedule the next day, Merlin arranged for Gwen to take Lancelot’s measurements, so that she could sew him attire befitting a knight. He noticed Gwen stealing glances at Lancelot, and honestly could not wait to tell her about the two of them. When she had all her numbers, she all but pushed them out the door so she could get started. Between sewing this, and her regular duties for Morgana, she had not a moment to lose.

“She seems lovely. Guinevere.” Lancelot noted as he and Merlin left.

“Oh, yeah!” Merlin agreed. “Yeah, yeah, she is. And the best seamstress in Camelot, I promise.” Merlin stopped walking and turned to face Lancelot. “I have to get back to my duties now, but I will find you tonight. Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Merlin raised his hand and briefly held Lancelot’s cheek in his palm, then he hurried off to find Arthur, thinking hard about a believable excuse for his lateness the whole way.

It was, once again, after sunset when Merlin returned to his room. He pushed open the door. “Lancelot?” he whispered into the dark.

“I’m here, Merlin.”

“I can’t see a thing… wait.” Merlin fumbled with some things on a stool just in his doorway, and soon ignited a candle, and the room lit up. Lancelot was on their nest on the floor, leaning against the wall. He smiled at Merlin, then nodded questioningly to a large basket he had in his hand. Merlin placed the candle on to the table near Lancelot, then dumped the contents onto the floor: a thick, heavy blanket, deep red, no doubt stuffed with goose down. Lancelot looked back up at Merlin, eyebrows high, wearing a disbelieving smile.

“Where on earth did you get this!” He reached for the blanket, stroking it gently, in awe at how soft and warm it was.

“Let’s just say I told Arthur I was doing the laundry tonight.”

Lancelot did a double take at Merlin. “You stole the prince’s bedding?!”

“Shh, keep your voice down!” Merlin dropped to his knees and began spreading the blanket out. “Technically I do have permission to take them from his chambers once a week to do the laundry.” Lancelot was still incredulous. “It’s not like he hasn’t got a spare set or two!”

“Merlin, you rascal,” Lancelot smiled in spite of himself, and helped Merlin make the corner of the room as comfortable as possible. It was quite charming, really, and Arthur’s blanket was so plush they could barely tell they were on the floor.

When the blanket was adequately arranged, Merlin sat back on his heels and nodded approvingly at it. Tonight, he would sleep like a prince. A prince on a floor.

Lancelot leaned in and kissed Merlin, taking him slightly by surprise, but after a moment he reciprocated fully. Lancelot led him down so they were laying side by side, so very close together, their lips pressing and brushing against each other. Lancelot pulled away, just a hair’s breadth, and when he spoke his voice was soft and low.

“Merlin,” he breathed.

Merlin felt joy billowing up in his chest, joy like he had not felt before. The word ‘love’ floated into the forefront of his mind, but it did not stay there long. He did not think this was love, really. Just… just something beautiful. And either way, now was not the time to think about it. Now was the time to act on it. And so he pushed himself up and situated so that he was straddling Lancelot, who looked up at Merlin with wide dark eyes, his lips slightly parted, as if in his wildest dreams he could not have imagined this happening. Merlin scoffed at this, and smiled.

“Man like you, you’ve had to have been with men before?”

Lancelot sat up swiftly, and Merlin gasped and teetered, but Lancelot’s hands were on his back, pressing firmly into his, holding him so that their faces were once again mere centimeters apart.

“Not men like you.” Lancelot followed this with a deep, gentle, passionate kiss, inhaling deeply as he did, eyes closed, his hands pulling Merlin in even closer so that not only their lips but also their chests and hips pressed together. He broke the kiss only to plant a line of them across Merlin’s jaw and down his neck, sending tingling waves down his spine. Lancelot took one hand off Merlin’s back to gingerly pull the neck of his shirt aside, kissing the newly exposed skin of his shoulder. Merlin rolled his head back and to the side, opening as much of his neck and shoulder up to Lancelot’s reach as possible. He gripped a handful of Lancelot’s shirt, and was suddenly overcome with the need to now have his lips on Lancelot’s skin. Together they lifted Lancelot’s shirt over his head and cast it aside, and Merlin ducked his head and kissed Lancelot’s shoulder. He tasted beautiful. He tasted like a miracle. 

Merlin leaned into Lancelot and he took the hint, and walked his hands back and lowered himself so that he was once again on his back, and Merlin could see his entire bare chest. Muscled and scarred, heaving with deep breaths. Merlin pulled his own shirt off and tossed it he knew not where. Lancelot’s eyes moved across Merlin’s body, and he was momentarily all too aware of how small his frame was compared to Lancelot’s. Lancelot, however, took Merlin’s face in his hands and said,

“You’re gorgeous.”

And he meant it. He pulled Merlin down for a kiss, Merlin’s hands on his chest, him still holding Merlin’s face. Merlin needed more skin, and so he moved his kisses back to Lancelot’s shoulder, then dipped lower on to his chest, his hands sliding down to either side of Lancelot’s abdomen. He felt Lancelot’s fingers run through his hair, and in response he squeezed his muscled sides and skipped his lips across his chest until he found one of his nipples, which he kissed and licked. Lancelot shuddered, and suddenly flipped them so Merlin was beneath him, his hips pressing against Merlin’s, whose legs wrapped around him.

“Lancelot, I’ve never-“

“Then we take it slow.”

Lancelot had one hand right beside Merlin’s head, bracing himself, and with the other he softly ran his fingers over Merlin’s neck. He looked into Merlin’s eyes, his gaze strong. Merlin parted his lips and tilted his head back, waiting for a kiss, but instead Lancelot stayed where he was, and pressed his hips forward into Merlin’s. Merlin felt Lancelot’s erect phallus rub against his own, and he let out an airy gasp at the sensation. Encouraged by this, Lancelot repeated the movement, rolling his hips forward and back, and soon felt Merlin become fully hard. Merlin, eyes closed, mouth ajar, arched his head back, exposing his neck, which Lancelot lowered himself to and began kissing and sucking at with fervor. Merlin shivered beneath him, his hands on Lancelot’s bare back. He unwrapped his legs from around Lancelot, who began to slowly make his way lower, planting his lips to Merlin’s chest, grazing over each nipple. 

When he reached Merlin’s lower abdomen, right around his navel, Merlin whined in pleasure and his hips bucked up a few inches. He had not meant to do that, but Lancelot seemed to have expected it, for he smiled into Merlin’s skin. He hooked a finger into Merlin’s waistband, then looked up at him, his face still low, his lips hovering just above him. Merlin looked down at him, and saw his dark eyes watching him through his lashes, and if it were possible he grew harder still. Still looking at him, Lancelot tugged Merlin’s trousers down about an inch, then asked,

“May I?”

“Please,” Merlin gasped out. Lancelot smiled wryly, then returned his attention down. He slid his hand down into Merlin’s pants, teasingly avoiding his penis but skimming the skin around it with his fingertips. Merlin quivered and moaned. “Please,” he said again. He lifted his hips slightly so Lancelot could tug his trousers off, which he did.

Merlin bit his bottom lip in anticipation as Lancelot again kissed his lower abdomen, then the taut skin between his hip and his sex. Merlin moaned, gripping the blanket on either side of himself. At last, neither being able to resist any longer, Lancelot tenderly kissed the side of Merlin’s cock, at which Merlin gasped. One of his hands jumped from the bed to Lancelot’s head, lacing his fingers into his hair. Lancelot dragged his lips along the length until he kissed the tip, reveling in Merlin’s huffing and gasping. He kissed the top of Merlin’s sex, and slowly began to suck on it, easing it into his mouth. Merlin’s breath hiked, jumping to a higher pitch, his fingers holding fast to Lancelot’s hair. Lancelot moaned happily around Merlin, sending glorious vibrations through his body, and he took him deeper into his mouth. With a hand at the base of Merlin’s penis, he began to work his head up and down, sliding him in and out of his wet lips. Merlin squirmed beneath him, craving more but not sure if he could take it.

Lancelot spread one of his hands over Merlin’s stomach, and Merlin grabbed it with the hand not in Lancelot’s hair. He squeezed his hand, gripping tight, mewling and breathing heavy in his pleasure. Lancelot moved his head down, taking in more of Merlin than he yet had, and paused there. Then he withdrew, then down again, taking in most of Merlin’s cock. Inside his mouth he used his tongue to draw circles on the shaft, hot and wet, the breath from his nose warming Merlin’s skin just above his penis. He seemed to decide that it was time, for all of the sudden Lancelot’s mouth tightened around him as he hollowed his cheeks, and he took all of Merlin into his mouth except where he still gripped the base with a few fingers. Merlin’s breath grew ragged, and he pushed Lancelot’s head down onto him, and bucked his hips up into him, and inside him swelled a great chaotic heat.

“Lancelot” he gasped between his shallow breaths, and then the air caught in his throat and his eyes flew open. He orgasmed hard, melting into Lancelot’s mouth. He tightened his grip on Lancelot’s hand that still pressed gently into his stomach, as though that would ground him, keep him from losing himself in this utter bliss, this ineffable pleasure. Lancelot grasped his hand in return, holding him. Merlin quivered through his orgasm, and as it began to dissipate he drew breath again, a deep inhale followed by a shuddering exhale. Lancelot carefully took his mouth off of Merlin’s cock, still holding the base, and he stroked Merlin ever so gently as he came down from his climax.

“How was that?” Lancelot asked softly. Merlin let out a hoarse laugh.

“That was magic.”

Lancelot smiled, and sat all the way up. Merlin, who had been staring at the ceiling, looked over at him. Seeing him kneeling there, shirtless, his hair a wreck… he was gorgeous. Merlin shook the clouds from his head, and sat up to kiss Lancelot, but stopped before their lips met.

“I, uh… what did you do… with…?” He suddenly felt ridiculous asking.

“Swallowed it,” Lancelot answered, as though it was a perfectly normal question.

“I guess I never thought about what you’d do with it. After, I mean. I just…”

They both laughed, and Merlin gestured to a goblet of water on the nearby table. As Lancelot got up, Merlin pulled his trousers back on, easing them slowly over his tender sex. Then he leaned back into their nest, hands behind his head, and watched Lancelot. Just took in the sight.

Lancelot caught him.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just… I loved that.”

Lancelot smiled. “So did I.” He put the goblet back down and rejoined Merlin. They laid down facing each other, hands joined in between them.

“Do you want me to-?” Merlin asked.

“No, thank you. That was what I needed tonight, Merlin.” They both smiled.

As the heat of their activity wore off, they both felt the chill of the night. Lancelot reached for the far upper corner of the blanket and threw it over them both, folding it over them so they were tucked in together.

“Perfect,” Merlin said, and nuzzled into Lancelot’s chest. Lancelot smiled.

It was.


	7. Chapter 7

It was around ten in the morning by the time Arthur and his knights were finishing training on the lawn. Which meant Merlin had already endured about two hours of Lancelot’s anxieties. As his time to meet Arthur drew nearer, he tried to back out a number of times, but Merlin talked him down again and again. Eventually Gwen joined the two of them at the edge of the field, and Lancelot dared not show his fear in front of her.

As Arthur called out drills to his knights, Merlin and Gwen adjusted the finishing touches on Lancelot’s attire.

“Well. You certainly look the part,” Merlin said proudly.

“Doesn’t he just?” Gwen agreed.

“I don’t feel it.” Lancelot tugged at his collar.

“That will do for today! Well done.” Arthur ended training, and Merlin patted Lancelot’s shoulder.

“Now’s your chance.”

Lancelot took a deep breath, readied himself, then approached Arthur.

Gwen and Merlin watched from a way back, where they could not quite hear what was being said. Lancelot looked nervous, but prepared. They exchanged a few words, then Lancelot presented the seal Merlin had made for him with a small bow. So far so good. He- oh no. Arthur slapped Lancelot hard across the face, sending him reeling backwards until he fell to the ground.

“Sluggish reactions. On the battlefield you would be dead by now.” Arthur turned away. “Come back when you’re ready.”

Lancelot stood and composed himself.

“I’m ready now, sire.”

Arthur turned back toward him, bemused. Almost impressed. “You are, are you?” Lancelot and Merlin nodded together. “Fine. You’ll start by cleaning out the stables.” The rest of the knights gathered laughed. Lancelot looked back at Merlin, who, in his best effort to show encouragement, gave him a double thumbs up and an exaggerated grin.

They hardly spoke as Merlin guided him to the stables, took his tunic and hauberk, and bid him good luck as he left to continue his duties with Arthur.

Merlin was helping Gaius grind herbs by the time Lancelot returned that night. He was a mess, in a state of stink and dishevelment that Merlin was all too familiar with.

“How did it go?” Merlin asked him, to which Lancelot replied with an exhausted grunt before heading directly to their bedroom.

Gains gave him a look.

"He found work at the stables," Merlin explained.

"I see! And the truth, before I lose my temper."

Merlin hesitated.

"Uh. He's trying out for the knights."

Gaius lost his temper. Merlin was able to calm him down some with his explanation, though, for it was indeed a solid explanation. He owed Lancelot his life, and Lancelot would make a fine knight. All he was doing was bending the rules.

"If you want to punish me for it," Merlin concluded, "go ahead." Gaius said nothing, and Merlin departed for his room.

Lancelot was fast asleep already. He had elected to sleep on the bed frame, leaving the pile of blankets for Merlin. His filthy shirt and boots were in a pile in the corner, and he lay face down on the hard wood. That was a level of exhausted Merlin knew. He took one of the blankets from the floor and draped it over Lancelot, before flopping on to the remaining nest on the floor.

Merlin was gone when Lancelot woke the next morning. His first thought was despair. He had failed. Utterly and completely blown his one chance of fulfilling his dream. He had ruined himself. There was no point in waking. He rolled over and forced himself to fall back asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

It was nearly noon before Merlin found Lancelot the next day. He had done all his morning duties, and was fetching supplies for Gaius in the market when he saw the man sitting alone, sharpening his sword. He started toward him, searching his brain for something to say, but stopped cold. Arthur came around a corner and saw Lancelot. Merlin looked back and forth between them, unsure of what would happen.

Arthur thought for a moment, then took up a broom that was leaning against a wall and threw it in Lancelot's direction. Lancelot turned in his chair and caught it, as though it were choreographed. Merlin smiled, relieved.

"Not bad."

Lancelot stood, still holding the broom, and offered a small bow. "Would you like me to sweep the guardhouse again, sire?"

"It certainly needs sweeping." Arthur picked up a broom of his own. He looked Lancelot up and down, then pulled the bristle end of the broom off the shaft. "First. I'd like you to kill me."

Merlin half hid himself behind a building, watching. This could be it, this could be Lancelot's true chance.

"Sire?"

"Come on. Don't pretend you don't want to." Arthur backed into the street a bit, and gripped his broom handle like a sword. "Hell, if I were you I'd want to."

Lancelot stepped on his broom and pulled the shaft free. Arthur twirled his as Lancelot stepped up to him, then mockingly waved Lancelot forward with one hand.

"Come on."

Nothing to lose. Lancelot plunged his staff at Arthur, who deflected it with ease, and they were all at once exchanging blows.

"Come on, Lancelot, you're not beating a carpet!"

They circled around each other, trading attacks, blocking and swinging and ducking. Merlin watched intently, hardly noticing the other villagers that were gathered around (yet keeping their distance). With each perry and strike, Merlin looked between the two men, and found himself holding his breath. Out of anticipation for Lancelot's future, of course, but it was also... he found himself... enjoying it. Arthur's witty smirk, Lancelot's intense eyebrows. They moved back and forth with each other, expertly handling their makeshift blades. Merlin watched the bind as the staffs clashed, but his eyes were so easily drifting to Lancelot's forearms and to Arthur's chest, exposed in his low cut shirt.

Merlin shook his head, dashing the thoughts away. Now was absolutely, positively not the time for this. This was about Lancelot. Lancelot, who was holding his own against Prince Arthur, both of them breathing heavy and grunting as their broom's made contact. Oh no. This was a turning point in Lancelot's life and yet all Merlin could do was enjoy it. It was... arousing.

Thoughts poured through Merlin's mind. He had never really thought of Arthur as attractive, but of course he had never really thought of anyone that way before Lancelot had shown his feelings first. And he so passionately hated Arthur when they had first met, maybe that had blinded him to his appeals. His strong jaw and his unexpectedly gentle eyes and his muscular body.... NOT THE TIME, MERLIN! Besides, he had something with Lancelot....?

Merlin clenched his fist, digging his nails into his palm. 'Brain,' he thought harshly. 'Stop.'

Arthur shouldered Lancelot, knocking him into a cart of hay, and wound up for a heavy downswing. Lancelot rolled out of the way and on to his feet just in time, and they stared each other down for a moment as they caught their breath. Arthur extended his wooden sword and poked Lancelot's chest tauntingly with it, and Merlin's breath caught in his throat. Why was that hot. Why was that hot.

Lancelot deflected a few half hearted blows, then Arthur picked up the speed and they were back into the heat of a duel, now each with a grip at either end of the staff. Arthur feigned one way, leading Lancelot into a position to defend his right side, then he thrust the other end of his staff up into Lancelot's left side ribs. Lancelot cried out and backed out of harm's way, wheezing and coughing. Still reeling, he did his best to square back up to Arthur. Arthur, however, let down his guard.

"Congratulations, Lancelot." He tossed his broom to Lancelot, who caught it with his free hand. "You just made basic training."

Lancelot panted for a moment more as Arthur casually walked away, and right as he was allowing himself to believe it, the tower bells exploded into life, echoing through the town. Their clanging was soon joined by the sounds of screams. Arthur stopped. He looked over his shoulder at Lancelot, and they both took off toward the citadel.

Merlin joined the river of fleeing people, knowing he had to find Giaus.

It was the winged monster. The one Lancelot had saved him from before. The one Uther and Arthur knew was plaguing their lands. It had attacked a nearby village, whose refugees were now pouring into Camelot. 

The rest of the day and into the night, Gaius and Merlin attended to the startled and wounded. Lancelot did what he could to help. Arthur and Uther disappeared into the council chambers with their advisors, where they, too, stayed into the night.

It was nearly dawn by the time the heavy doors opened and the prince came out. By that point, Gaius had released Merlin, knowing the prince would need him soon. Besides, most of the injuries were superficial and easy to care for. So when Arthur stepped into the hallway, Merlin was there, waiting for him. Arthur looked at him and nodded sullenly, then made off for his chambers.

Merlin hurried after him. Arthur was undressed as he walked, dropping things in his wake. Merlin scooped his cloak off the floor, then his gloves, then his pauldron. Arthur was, as always, oblivious to the now teetering pile of his things that Merlin carried. Usually this would have annoyed Merlin, at the very least, but at present he knew the stress Arthur was under, and so he forgave him. His kingdom was under attack by a mysterious, monstrous beast, and at a time when he was already short on knights. And now he was exhausted, and had perhaps two hours to sleep before he had to reawaken for the next day of challenges and trials.

“I don’t know what to do, Merlin.” Merlin had to peak around his armload to see the prince. “MY father is counting on me for this. He will not say it, but I know he is using this as a test for me.”

“A test, sire?”

Arthur reached the doors to his chambers and threw them open, so that once he had stepped in, they swung shut again behind him, leaving Merlin on the outside. Merlin heard him continue speaking through the door.

“A test of my ability and strength. To see if I am ready to be king.” Merlin adjusted his burden to free a single finger, and struggled with the door until he finally got it open. “If I can’t do this, then how can I be king?”

“You will succeed,” Merlin promised. Arthur held out his sword belt for Merlin to take, not even looking at him. Merlin looked around, and dumped his pile onto the table before taking the belt. Arthur looked around at the crash.

“Careful, Merlin!”

“Sorry, sire.”

Arthur shook his head. He pulled his hauberk off and handed that to Merlin, then began unlacing his tunic. His fingers were shaking. Merlin laid the chainmail and belt on the table and approached Arthur, laying his hands on the princes’. 

“Let me,” he said. Arthur submitted. He lowered his hands in defeat, and Merlin took up the task. Arthur looked past Merlin, out the window. He stared off into the distance, over his father’s kingdom, into the growing dawn.

“I don’t know what to do,” he repeated quietly.

“You will figure it out,” Merlin replied softly, gently pulling the laces apart, working down the front of Arthur’s chest. “You always do. And you’re not alone. You have the knights, and test or not you have your father.” He paused, then went for it. “And you have me.”

Arthur looked at Merlin then, and Merlin was expecting him to laugh and ask “You, Merlin?” But he did not. The silence brewed between them, and after a moment Merlin looked up. He got the strange feeling that Arthur was about to thank him. But he did not. He kissed him. He kissed him with trembling lips, with closed eyes and eyebrows pulled together in uncertainty. He kissed him, and then pulled back, mouth ever so slightly ajar, eyes searching Merlin’s face for a reaction.

“Arthur,” Merlin exhaled, and Arthur immediately stepped back, leaving Merlin standing there with his hands still up as though the laces were still between his fingers.

“I don’t know what came over me. Forgive me.” He turned his back and steadied himself with a hand against one of his bedposts.

“Arthur-“

“Leave. Please.”

Merlin wanted to say more, he wanted to tell Arthur… but he sense the prince would not listen to or say another word, and so he left.


	9. Chapter 9

By the time Merlin reached the door to Gaius’ workplace, he had completely convinced himself that ~that~ had not happened. He had undone Arthur’s shirt laces, helped him ready for bed, and bid him goodnight. Nothing more. In fact, he felt rather foolish for ever having allowed himself to think that it had happened. How could it have? The Prince of Camelot, the Once and Future King. The greatest knight in the kingdom. Arthur Pendragon. How could he ever even glance twice at him, at Merlin, at a lowly serving boy, the physician’s assistant, the (apparently) chief of mucking out the stables. It was ridiculous. Merlin grinned at his own stupidity for a moment, shaking his head, and then his smile fell.

He had reached his bedroom, and there was Lancelot, asleep in the corner, in the pile of blankets. He had made basic training. This man was well on his way to becoming a knight. How could he look twice at Merlin? Strong and handsome and brave, he had impressed Arthur himself, and soon he would be strutting around the citadel in shining mail and a billowing red cloak. He would be given proper quarters, and he would shed Merlin like an old robe.

Merlin watched Lancelot sleep for a while. He and Arthur both slept shirtless, but while Arthur favored his stomach, Lancelot was on his back, one arm beneath his head and the other draped over the blanket that came up to just below his breast. He was beautiful. Beautiful like a perfect fruit perched high in a branch, ripe and ready, but so far out of reach.

Merlin tore his eyes away and made for the bare wooden bedframe. He took off his scarf and made that into his pillow, and pulled his jacket over him as a small blanket. He had perhaps an hour now, before he had to wake up and be back at Arthur’s side.

He did not fall asleep at all, and was still staring at his wall, unmoved, when the dawn changed color and indicated it was time for him to return to his duties.

As he dressed, Lancelot stirred. He stretched, and sat upright, smiling.

“I am to be a knight,” he said simply.

“I told you,” Merlin replied, still preparing to leave. Lancelot looked between him and the bedframe, putting it together.

“You slept there?” He asked.

“Uh, yes. I did. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Merlin I would not have minded, I only slept there the other night because I was covered in dung. This is your room, your blankets.”

“I came in so late- “

Lancelot pushed himself to his feet and took a few steps toward Merlin. “Merlin, have I done something?”

Merlin flashed him a smile. “No, I just didn’t want to wake you! I have to go,” and he was gone.

Arthur was already awake when Merlin entered his room and laid out his breakfast. He ate very little of it, then Merlin helped him dress in silence, apart from “my lord” and “sire” mumbled here and there. He donned his entire knight’s ensemble, aside from the cloak, for today was a day of not only training, but potentially of battle as well. The beast was on its way to Camelot, and might very well rear its ugly head this day.

Arthur spent the majority of the day with the knights, leaving Merlin to his tasks. It was mid-afternoon, and Merlin was alone in the physician’s room when Lancelot burst in.

“Tomorrow morning!” He nearly shouted it, arms flung wide, beaming.

“What is?”

“My test to be a knight! Arthur moved it up to tomorrow morning!”

Merlin laughed happily, setting down the bottles he had been organizing. “Lancelot, that’s wonderful!” Lancelot came up to him and wrapped him in a hug, almost before Merlin knew it was happening.

“It is all thanks to you, Merlin.”

Merlin tentatively hugged him back, but when Lancelot did not let go, he deepened his embrace. Maybe he was not going to be left behind, after all. At length Lancelot pulled back and held Merlin firmly by the shoulders.

“I need to prepare,” he said.

“Come with me,” Merlin led him to one of the fields the knights used for training. They were currently out on the larger expanse along the other side of the castle – Merlin and Lancelot could hear Arthur calling instructions and drills, and the occasional clashing of metal on metal. 

For the next few hours, Lancelot practiced his swings on the scarecrow-like practice figures, and now and then Merlin would take up a shield and offer a moving target.

“Should I try with a sword?” Merlin asked at one point. The sun was getting low, their shadows long. They could still hear the knights working in the distance, but knew they would disassemble soon for dinner.

Lancelot gestured to the sword rack. “If you’d like.”

“I won’t be any match like Arthur, but it can’t hurt, can it?” Stupid question, Merlin thought. Practicing with real swords, him against a skilled swordsman? That could definitely, absolutely hurt. But it was too late to rescind the offer now. Besides, he was determined to do everything in his power to help Lancelot earn his knighthood. He started by offering swings at Lancelot, who would perry or deflect them with the proper guard. As they got into it and Merlin gained some confidence, he picked up the speed. Lancelot began following each block with a counter attack that he pulled up short so as to not actually make contact with Merlin. Merlin found himself enjoying this. Lancelot was much kinder than Arthur in this – whenever Merlin wielded a blade against Arthur, the prince parried him with such force that his arms and shoulders would ache. Lancelot was using this for technique training, and holding back on the brute force.

They went faster still, and to Merlin it felt like real-time sword fighting (though he knew it was far short of it). Lancelot, hardly needing this practice, began to coach him.

“Good! Now see if you can block my counter- good, Merlin!”

They exchanged attacks and counter attacks, stepping back and forth. Lancelot gave a playful smirk and tucked one hand behind his back, teasing Merlin.

“Oh! Is that how it’s going to be?” Merlin laughed.

Lancelot flicked his eyebrows up playfully. “Come and get me.”

Merlin bit his lip in concentration, running his eyes up and down Lancelot, planning an attack. Lancelot read his thoughts, and came at him fast with a strike toward his flank. Merlin yelped and sloppily blocked just in time.

“Don’t plan it out, Merlin, just go! Just feel it.”

Merlin lunged forward with an attack, and quick as lightening Lancelot moved one way with a metallic clash, then the other, and then he had a foot wrapped around the back of Merlin’s legs. Merlin stumbled backwards and was about to fall completely, but Lancelot grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him back up, pulled him up so they were nose to nose.

Merlin gasped, and laughed. Breathing heavy, he tried to figure out what had just happened. Lancelot, his face inches away, was calm as a statue, eyes steely, looking into Merlin’s.

“I told you to feel it,” he said in a low voice, and Merlin felt a shudder run up his back.

Before he had to decide how to respond, they heard Arthur calling the end of training for the day. Lancelot smiled, and released Merlin, stepping back.

“I should… Arthur…” Merlin choked out.

“Yes, you should Arthur.”

“I’ll, um, see you back in the room? Tonight, I mean?”

“I’ll see you back in the blankets tonight.”

Merlin swallowed hard, and nodded, unable to keep an unreserved grin from spreading across his face. Before he fully lost his composure, he turned on his heel and quickly made for the armory to aid Arthur.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> $exy time

As Merlin removed Arthur’s armor, he was largely ignored, as Arthur spoke to the knights as he worked, or simply did not say anything at all. Before long, Arthur was free of the heavy garment, and as he made for the door, Merlin followed. But Arthur turned to face him.

“That will be all,” he spoke to Merlin, though his eyes were everywhere but. 

“Sire?”

Arthur cleared his throat as the last of the knights walked past them and exited the armory.

“That will be all. Tonight. Merlin.”

“But Arthur-“

“I can in fact function on my own, and I am releasing you for the night."

That night, Merlin became a man. At least, by the standards of some.

He had stumbled into his chambers, exhausted and overthinking. Lancelot was standing in the middle of the room, wearing only his trousers, eyes strong and gentle. Merlin stopped in the doorway, drew a shuddering breath, and then walked right up to the man and kissed him hard on the mouth, hands holding his face. Lancelot responded by gripping Merlin’s waist.

Lancelot stepped away, and Merlin opened his mouth to protest until he saw Lancelot moving to close the door. He suddenly did not know what to do, and simply stood in the middle of his own room until Lancelot returned to him. Slowly, now, Lancelot lifted the bottom of Merlin’s shirt, and together they took it off and cast it aside. Lancelot’s fingers played gently on Merlin’s hips, fluttering across his skin. They looked hard into each other’s eyes, past each other’s eyes, neither daring to make the first move.

“I don’t know how I feel,” Merlin said abruptly.

“Then just feel good,”

With that, Lancelot gripped Merlin’s sides tight and pulled him in, pressing their lips together in a heavy kiss. Merlin inhaled sharply through his nose, pressing his bare chest into Lancelot’s. Lancelot’s hands ran up and down Merlin’s back, arching him further into him. They bent and reached and leaned, Merlin’s hands in Lancelot’s hair, Lancelot’s tongue in Merlin’s mouth, their hips rubbing together until they could feel the other’s erection through their trousers.

The next few minutes seemed to pass in a blur, and yet were the clearest moments of his life. In the darkness, Merlin felt Lancelot’s mouth on his neck, his back, his hands, his sex. Together they fell to the floor, cushioned by the dark blanket, arching and sighing together, rolling and stretching, reaching and feeling. Lancelot’s hand wrapped around Merlin’s sex, stroking him in time with their kissing, and Merlin responded in kind, but Lancelot pulled his face away and looked down into Merlin’s eyes.

“Tell me what you want.” he said.

“I want to have sex with you,” Merlin breathed out in one exhale. Lancelot responded with a small, sincere smile. Between kisses and hands running everywhere, he guided Merlin to his hands and knees. At first Merlin had hesitated – he wanted to see Lancelot while it was happening, he wanted to be able to hold him – but Lancelot explained that this position was best for one’s first time.

He began by using his tongue. This was something Merlin had never even considered before, but it immediately felt amazing. He gasped as Lancelot licked and dabbed at his asshole. Lancelot had one hand on each of Merlin’s buttocks, and he would squeeze and massage them, and pull them apart to better reach what his tongue played with. 

As soon as he had started, Lancelot stopped.

“I am going to use a finger now,” he said softly, and waited for Merlin to nod before doing so. He wet his finger in his mouth, then gently pressed it to Merlin’s ass. Merlin bit his lip as Lancelot slowly applied pressure, then released it, then applied pressure again. Merlin held his breath, taking deep inhales sporadically, and he let out a shuddering gasp as Lancelot’s finger slipped past the threshold and entered him fully. Lancelot bent over him, his chest touching Merlin’s back, his mouth right by his ear.

“Shhhh,” 

Merlin shivered at this. Lancelot smiled, his lips brushing Merlin’s ear, and began to move his finger. He worked it deeper into Merlin, then pulled it back slightly, then deeper once more. He adjusted to the sensation, and needed more. He leaned his body back into Lancelot, inviting more, to which Lancelot responded by pressing the tip of a second finger to Merlin. Merlin pulled away and inhaled sharply.

“Not yet,” he managed to say, voice tight and high.

Lancelot nodded and withdrew his second finger, then his head until he was planting kisses between Merlin’s shoulder blades. He moved the finger that was inside of Merlin with more vigor now, back and forth, and felt Merlin beginning to relax. He licked the palm of his other hand and began stroking Merlin’s penis, running his thumb over the tip. Merlin mewled in pleasure, relaxing further, arching his back. Lancelot steadily increased the speed of his fingering and his stroking, until the muscles along Merlin’s back twitched and he pulled away slightly.

“Not yet,” he said again, not wanting to finish just yet. As good as that felt, he knew he wanted more. He wanted it all.

Lancelot gingerly introduced a second finger, and this time Merlin was ready, and accepted it into himself with a long, low moan. He felt himself stretching ever so slightly, his body at first protesting, but then welcoming the feeling.

“I want more,” Merlin breathed, so quietly that Lancelot could not hear the words. He bent down and ever so gently bit the top of Merlin’s ear, drawing a happy moan out of the man, then whispered,

“You’ll have to speak up, Merlin,”

“I want more.” Steady this time. Determined. Lancelot straightened so that he was upright on his knees behind Merlin, and so carefully slid his two fingers out of Merlin, leaving him wanting. Again he licked his own palm, then took his own cock in hand and pressed against Merlin’s asshole with the tip.

“Easy, Merlin,” Lancelot whispered. Merlin could only whimper in response. Lancelot eased himself forward, slowly breaching the tight muscle.

The moment it happened, all the air in Merlin’s lungs seemed to simply, suddenly, cease to exist. Every memory of everything he had ever felt was immediately put to shame.

He gasped, and one of his hands jumped forward to steady himself, grabbing a handful of the blanket. He closed his eyes tight, mouth open, not daring to breath. It hurt, but fuck it felt so good, and promised to only get better.

Lancelot added more spit. He felt himself slide inside of Merlin, felt the man shiver beneath him as he let out a beautiful ~ohhh~. He slowly pushed deeper, until there was no longer enough of himself to hold and he moved his hands to Merlin’s waist, steadying them both. Merlin’s breathing was loud, his exhales strained. Lancelot paused and put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, a gesture Merlin understood and nodded in response to, telling Lancelot to keep going. He did. He kept his one hand on his shoulder, almost using it to pull Merlin back into him.

God’s bones, Merlin felt amazing. Lancelot knew if he was not careful, this was all going to be over far too soon. He bit his lip, and then he was all the way in Merlin, his entire sex inside of him. He let out a low moan, accompanied by Merlin’s own ragged vocalized pleasure. Slowly, carefully, he pulled himself back a few centimeters, then forward again. Merlin let out an involuntary cry, soft and quiet, and Lancelot nearly came right then and there. His hands jumped back to both being on Merlin’s hips, holding Merlin still to stop all friction on himself for a moment. He recovered, took a deep breath, and then moved back and forth again, and again. Merlin groaned happily, and Lancelot himself was now breathing high and light, in time to the movement of his hips fucking Merlin. He carried on at this pace until Merlin was pressing back into him, asking for more, and so Lancelot moved faster, reentering Merlin harder each time. He could feel everything, every part of his cock rubbing against the tight heat inside Merlin's ass. He gripped Merlin's sides harder, pulling him back each time he pushed forward, meeting in the middle with a deep thrust.

“Lancelot-“ All the sudden Merlin reached back and put a hand on Lancelot’s stomach, stopping him. “I’m so close…”

Lancelot carefully pulled out of Merlin, who fell limp to the blanket and rolled on to his back. He laughed breathily, looking up at Lancelot, who crawled over him so that he had a hand holding himself off the ground on each side of Merlin’s head.

“What do you think?” He asked with a smile, knowing the answer, at which Merlin laughed again. He searched his mind for something to say, but could not think of anything, and so he just smiled and shook his head. Lancelot dipped his head down for a kiss, a kiss that almost took Merlin by surprise, but one he reciprocated immediately. Lancelot dropped to his elbow, running his fingers in Merlin’s hair, and moving so he was between Merlin’s legs. Merlin wrapped his legs around Lancelot’s middle, and slid his hips up and down so their erections rubbed each other. With his hands he reached down between them. For a moment it hit him how strange it was to feel two penises in one hand. Strange and amazing. He stroked them together as Lancelot moved his kissing down Merlin’s cheek. He planted his lips a few times on his ear, accompanied by deep moans that seemed to rattle through Merlin’s spine and pool in his already throbbing sex. 

“I want you, Merlin,” he whispered in his ear, voice low and confident. Merlin gasped and shivered. His hand still on Lancelot’s cock, and maneuvered his hips until he felt the tip brush against his ass. Allowing Merlin to guide him, Lancelot pushed himself forward. As he slipped inside of Merlin, easier this time, he exhaled hot breath into Merlin’s ear, the two sensations flushing his body with heat. He grabbed Lancelot’s back, pulling him in so his strong breasts pressed down into his chest. Lancelot pivoted his hips forward and back, moving his sex inside of Merlin, never pulling out fully before plunging deep again, the increasing force of his thrusts moving Merlin’s entire body. He lightly bit Merlin’s neck, sucking at the pale flesh, tasting and feeling as much of his body as possible. Merlin’s legs, still wrapped around Lancelot’s waist, pulled him in, holding him fast, so now Lancelot’s thrusts were quick and short and unbelievably deep. Merlin felt it all. Every inch of Lancelot’s penis inside of him, the tip slamming deep, the heat of his breath on his neck. 

Suddenly Lancelot put his arms under Merlin’s back and sat up, pulling him with him. Merlin found himself sitting in Lancelot’s lap, which, if possible, allowed Lancelot to push deeper into him. Merlin gasped, again and again as Lancelot bucked his hips up into him.

Lancelot looped an arm under Merlin's leg, so he had one hand on Merlin’s lower back, right at the round of his ass, and the other steadying himself on the ground. He rocked his hips up and down. Now Merlin put his mouth on Lancelot’s neck, and he grabbed the back of Lancelot's neck with his hand, holding him close.

“Lancelot, I can feel it, I-” he gasped out.

“Let it happen, Merlin.”

Lancelot wrapped his arms around Merlin and pulled him in closer, holding him tight. Merlin’s breathing lost all rhythm, coming out in short pants and sharp inhales. His hips still driving up into Merlin, still holding the man close, Lancelot let his head fall back as he felt the heat building within him. He was so close, it was so close…

Merlin suddenly stopped breathing altogether, and his body convulsed as he gripped Lancelot’s neck and back with everything he had, and with his face contorted in a silent scream he orgasmed. It pulsed through his body, waves of absolute pleasure, as he spilled himself onto both of their chests. Lancelot felt his tremors, and felt the muscles of his ass tighten hard around his cock as he came, and with a choked gasp Lancelot came as well, emptying his passion into Merlin.

“Merlin-” with face still pointed upward, and Merlin’s face still buried in his neck, he, too, quaked with the power of his orgasm, his hips jumping as he felt his hot cum shoot out of him. Heat crashed over them both as they gasped and groaned and grabbed each other. It lasted a moment and a millennia, all at once.

Just as they had climaxed together, they fell together, too. Merlin felt the pressure leave him, and with it every ounce of energy he had. He fell into Lancelot’s chest, both breathing deeply, trying to catch their breath. After a moment Lancelot leaned Merlin backward until he was again on his back on the blanket, where his arms fell to his sides. Carefully, slowly, Lancelot drew himself out of Merlin, both of them sighing with the movement. Merlin took his legs off of Lancelot, putting his feet on the ground. He could feel Lancelot’s semen in him, and some of is dripped out of him with a strange melting feeling.

Lancelot bent over Merlin and gently kissed his chest. Merlin rubbed his back, eyes closed, happy and exhausted. Soon, Lancelot pushed himself up and off of Merlin. He found Merlin’s thin blanket amongst the folds of the heavy red one, and used that to mop up their chests. Merlin’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, and they exchanged a smile as Lancelot cleaned them up.

“I know you are tired, Merlin,” he said, “but it would be wise to use the privy before falling asleep.” Merlin grunted in reply, but saw the wisdom of it. He forced himself to his feet with the help of Lancelot, and diligently went to use the latrine. Even that was a strange feeling.

When he returned to the corner they shared, Lancelot was nearly asleep. He lifted an arm, inviting Merlin to join him in a close cuddle, and wrapped Arthur's blanket around them both.

“How are you, Merlin?” Lancelot mumbled, eyes closed, nose in Merlin’s hair.

Good. That was all Merlin could think to say. And it was beyond true. He felt good, inside and out, with Lancelot’s warm skin on him, with his body satisfied as it had never been before. He felt safe, he felt happy, he felt like things might just be okay.

“Good,” he said. Out loud it sounded pitiful, but he felt Lancelot exhale on to the back of his neck as he smiled.

“Me, too,”

For half a moment Merlin wondered if he was meant to say something else, but before he could even start to think of what, they were both asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, that was a lot. I hope you ~enjoyed~ it!
> 
> Question: I have seen some people add art to their works. I drew something just because, and would be happy to share it. It is not anything incredible, but it is a moment from this chapter. Any ideas how I do that? When I try to drag and drop a picture, it just pastes the weird link thing.


	11. Chapter 11

That morning, Lancelot became a knight.

It was the second time Merlin had seen he and Arthur cross blades – or brooms, rather – but it was also Lancelot’s wits that won him the knighthood. He was strong and clever, and that very afternoon he was dubbed Sir Lancelot by the king himself.

At the celebration that evening, Lancelot and Arthur were drinking and talking together for hours, Arthur introducing him to the rest of the knights and men and women of import. While Arthur held himself casually, Merlin could see Lancelot was overthinking his every move, hardly believing he was sharing a bench with the Prince of Camelot and worried if he made one wrong move, the dream would burst like a bubble. As the night went on, and the ale kept coming, he began to relax, and Merlin watched proudly from the sidelines.

Some time after Gaius retired, Merlin and Gwen were standing side by side. Merlin had been tailing Arthur and Lancelot, half because he was the prince’s servant and needed to be ready to help, and half because he wanted to make sure this night was as perfect as possible for Lancelot. He did, however, indulge himself in a goblet or two.

“So, come on.” Gwen said suddenly. “Just for the sake of argument, if you had to. Arthur, or Lancelot?”

Merlin choked on his mouthful of ale.

“What?!” he barked, drawing nearby eyes. He looked over, but the prince and the knight had not heard. Merlin steadied his breath and looked back at Gwen with wide eyes.

“Oh!” Gwen covered her mouth with her hand. “I thought you knew I knew!”

Knew I faked a knight? Knew I /fucked/ a knight? Knew I even had eyes for men?? THAT I HAVE MAGIC??

“Knew what?” He asked curtly, trying to regain his composure.

“Well- I thought you knew that I knew… that you fancy men.” Gwen answered in a low voice.

Merlin looked around in a panic, but now not another soul in the room was looking at them.

“I- well- don’t be ridiculous.”

“Merlin, I’m so sorry. But you don’t need to hide yourself from me. You know that, right?” Gwen put her hand on Merlin’s sleeve, looking into his eyes.

“I-” before he had to think of something to say, Arthur stood up on the bench he shared with Lancelot and called for the room’s attention. He made a brief toast to the new knight with his arm around his shoulders, before the end of which Merlin had snuck into the crowd and disappeared, grabbing a fresh tankard of ale on the way out.

Lancelot found him later that night in his chambers. Usually a knight would be given his own rooms, but Lancelot had been knighted so swiftly that there had not been time to prepare them. And besides, Lancelot had promised Arthur he had a comfortable place to stay the night.

Merlin was laying on his stomach on his bed when Lancelot opened the door. Merlin was in a stupor, so did not notice the new arrival until he shouted at him.

“Sir Knight Lancelot!”

Merlin jumped, knocking over his mug and spilling what little was left.

“I’m not Sir Lancelot, you’re Sir Lancelot!”

“I know and it is wonderful!” Sir Lancelot struggled to close the door behind him for a moment, as he had a tankard in each hand, and plenty already in his belly. He stumbled toward Merlin, beaming like an idiot, at which Merlin could not help but grin back. “I am Sir Knight Lancelot!”

“Shhh, keep your voice down, you’ll wake Gaius!” Merlin whispered, laughing. “And anyway it’s just Sir Lancelot, you don’t need to say ‘knight’ every time in it!”

Lancelot chuckled drunkenly, and plopped himself down on the floor beside Merlin. He handed Merlin one of the mugs, which he accepted without question.

“You know,” Lancelot whispered so quietly that Merlin had to lean in to hear him. “You know, Merlin… you know?”

“I can’t know if I know it until you tell me what I know!” Merlin giggled into his mug between sips.

“You know….” Lancelot thought hard, then let out a bark of laughter. “I have completely forgotten what I was going to say!”

“That’s probably for the b-” Lancelot silenced him abruptly with a hard, sloppy kiss. Once over the surprise of it, Merlin leaned into it. Lancelot pulled himself away with a grunt, downed the rest of his ale, and stood. Merlin’s eyes were suddenly right level with Lancelot’s crotch, and his heart fluttered. But Lancelot had other plans. He scooped Merlin off the bed with ease and carried him to the blanket on the floor, and together they fell into the warm folds of it, where they snogged and rolled and groped until they both fell into a hard sleep, tangled in each other’s limbs.

The next morning came far too soon. The word of the day was regret. Merlin woke first, but Lancelot was woken soon after by the sound of Merlin vomiting into his loo.

Lancelot made his way over and patted Merlin’s back.

“There, there,” he said. Merlin gagged, then looked sideways up at Lancelot.

“I blame you,” he slurred. Lancelot smiled, and handed him water. Merlin rinsed his mouth and stood, at which Lancelot pulled a face, half worried and half amused. “What is it?” Merlin asked, suddenly scared.

“Uh, nothing. Just-“ Lancelot pointed vaguely at Merlin’s neck. Merlin’s hand jumped up to it, but felt nothing out of the ordinary.

“What is it?”

“It seems we were a bit enthusiastic last night. You have a bruise on your neck. From,” now Lancelot gestured at his own mouth. “From me.”

“Is it bad?”

“Uh…. No. Just be sure to wear your scarf thing.”

“Always.” He turned and started looking for said scarf thing, but was interrupted as his stomach rumbled. “Food,” he said, and forgetting the task at hand, both young men headed for the door and walked down into the physician’s room.

“Two yards of ale?” Lancelot said skeptically on the way down. “Two miles, more like it.” 

“Good morning gentlemen.” Gaius greeted them with two glasses of… something. “Don’t look at it, don’t smell it. Just down it in one.” The boys did so, immediately retching on the foul taste. “Better? Good.” Gaius nodded at Lancelot. “Can’t have nodding off first day on the job, Lancelot.”

“That’s Sir Lancelot, if you don’t mind,” Merlin interjected, and Gaius chuckled and Lancelot smiled proudly. The drink – whatever it was – was already helping, and Lancelot and Merlin both felt their heads clearing, the headache being replaced by renewed excitement in their accomplishment. As Gaius’ laugh faded, his eyes found Merlin’s neck and one of his eyebrows arched up.

“Merlin, what has happened to your neck?”

“Ah, what? It’s, uh-“

“He fell, in the night.” Lancelot cut in. “Here’s a man who can’t hold his ale,” the joke distracted Gaius enough, who seemed to be about to let the matter go, when all the sudden the door was kicked open and two guards came in, marching right toward them.

“What are you doing?” Merlin demanded, mind flooding with all sorts of worst case scenarios.

“King’s orders.” One of the guards said, and they both reached for Lancelot. No, no, no. Lancelot’s face turned hard, but he let them take him by the arms. They pulled him away, roughly leading him toward the door. He looked back at Merlin, who took a step forward, but Gaius put a hand on his arm.

“Stop!”

Lancelot looked back at Merlin again, his mind full of many of the same fears, and then before they knew it, the guards took him around the corner and he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Love me some comments.... if you feel so inclined. It's nice to know if others are enjoying this, or if I am just writing for myself. *shrug*


	12. Chapter 12

Lancelot’s hands were bound behind his back. He was on his knees, in his pauper’s clothes, his shirt disrespectfully low, exposed and vulnerable in front of the actual king. In front of a handful of knights, who stood around him, armed and serious. Worse, really, in front of Arthur. This man who he respected beyond all reason, this young man who had become his friend the very night before. Most elite of warriors, most noble of men. Last night he had his arm around him, they shared words and laughter – and of course by this point in the night Lancelot’s memory grew fuzzy, but he was pretty sure they had shared ale, as well, drinking from the same mug.

“Tell him what you told me,” King Uther said, staring hard at Lancelot but addressing an older man behind him, who Lancelot saw was holding the seal Merlin had made for him.

“His credentials are faked.”

Lancelot’s heart dropped. He glanced at Arthur for a moment, just long enough to see his utterly disappointed look, but dared not keep his eyes on him for too long. The man continued,

“The seal itself is faultless. Forgery of the highest possible standard but forgery it must be. There is no record of a fifth son of Lord Eldred of Northumbria. Therefore, he-“

“Lied.” The King finished his sentence. His face was emotionless, his eyes cold, as he looked down at Lancelot.

Lancelot closed his eyes and hung his head. Not even one day as a knight, and it was all crashing down around him. ‘Oh, Merlin,’ he thought. ‘I’m sorry.’

“Do you deny it?” The King asked.

Lancelot shook his head, and forced out an airy “No, Sire,” holding back tears. Arthur looked away, dejected.

“You have broken the First Code of Camelot. You have brought shame upon yourself and upon us. You are not worthy of the Knighthood bestowed upon you. You never were. And you never will be.” Lancelot’s heart sunk deeper and deeper, and his throat felt like it was closing. His eyes stung. “Get him out of my sight.”

The guards to either side of Lancelot yanked him to his feet and led him out of the room. The moment the door swung shut, Arthur turned to his father.

“Sire,”

“Do you contest my judgement?”

“His deception was inexcusable.” Arthur took a deep breath. “But he meant no harm, sire, I am sure of it. He only wished to serve.”

The King scoffed. “The First Code is a sacred bond of trust. It is what binds the knights together. How can you trust a man that’s lied to you?” This was not what Arthur had wanted to hear, but of course he had known it was coming. The King would not hear another word of it. Arthur left, heading for his chambers. He found Merlin in the hallway, and looked him up and down before stalking off. Merlin looked down the opposite hall, where he had just seen Lancelot being pulled away, toward the dungeons. He wanted to follow, to free Lancelot, or if nothing else at least talk to him. Apologize. But he was duty-bound to follow Arthur, and hoped maybe he could gain some sway in doing so. So he took off after the prince.

“Your friend lied.” Arthur did not turn around, but kept walking quickly toward his chambers.

“Sire, I-“

“He is no nobleman. He is nobody.” Arthur burst into his chambers and leaned against the table, back to Merlin. The doors swung shut behind them both. “I vouched for him, and he shamed me in front of the king.”

“Sire-“

“Did you know?” Arthur turned around so quickly that Merlin took a step back. “Of course you didn’t know,” Arthur answered himself. “Geoffrey himself said the forged crest was flawless.”

Merlin did not answer.

Arthur sighed, and began undoing his tunic. He clenched his jaw and glanced at Merlin, remembering the last time he had done so with Merlin in the room… but Merlin was respectfully ignoring him, tidying Arthur’s table of that morning’s breakfast. Of course he was thinking about the same thing. But he had successfully convinced himself that it had not, in fact, happened, and had just been a dream blurring the memory of kissing Lancelot with all the times he had stood in front of Arthur.

Arthur cast the tunic on to his bed and began dressing for training.

“And now we are back to having a shortage of knights, and that creature is still out there. Mail.” Merlin handed him his hauberk. “Tunic. Sword.” Merlin handed him his things, which he pulled on and secured the sword belt around his waist, then he regarded the weapon closely, thinking about how he would use it to slay the beast. He stroked his hand up the blade, gently, but Merlin took a step forward and said,

“Careful, Sire, I just sharp-“

“Ah!” Arthur pulled his hand away from the blade and shook it, then peered at the thin cut that ran across his palm.

“I just sharpened that.” Merlin finished. He pulled off his scarf to use as a makeshift bandage. “Here, my Lord, let me.” Arthur slid his weapon back into the sheath and held his hand out lazily as Merlin wrapped it. Arthur was looking at his cluttered desk for most of the task, but soon his eyes drifted toward Merlin.

Merlin tied it off, and looked up at Arthur, who quickly looked away.

“Well, it was indeed sharp. Good to know you can do something right, Merlin!” He clapped a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, then froze. Merlin was confused for a moment, and then felt himself turn pale (well, more pale). The bruise on his neck. Arthur saw it.

“Who did this to you, Merlin?” The prince asked, for a moment seeming almost concerned, and then realization dawned in his eyes. “Oh, I see! Your man friend, eh?” Merlin opened his mouth, but no words came out. Arthur grinned, and returned his attention to adjusting his clothing. “Perhaps we should find you another scarf, you’ll-” Again he froze. He looked back at Merlin, and this time Merlin’s fear was warranted. “You make two new friends in the same week, do you, Merlin? Or more likely they are the same person.” Arthur took a step forward, looking hard at Merlin. Again Merlin took a step back, away from him, doing his best not to give himself away.

“Sire-”

“It’s Lancelot, isn’t it?” Arthur kept walking forward, backing Merlin up. “This man you’ve been fornicating with. The same man you recommended for knighthood. It’s Lancelot.”

“Arthur, I-” Arthur lunged forward, slamming Merlin’s back into the wall and pinning him there, one arm barred across his neck, the cold metal of his hauberk digging into his skin. “Ar-thur!” Merlin struggled to breath, clawing in vain at his forearm.

“You must have known. You must have /helped/ him! What, did you think he could gain you favor in the court, did you think he could win you a higher position? Than serving your prince?!” Arthur was nearly shouting, but it was worse than that. He hissed through clenched teeth, face hardly two inches from Merlin’s.

“No-!”

“I knew you were stupid Merlin, but not this stupid! This is treason!”

“Arthur-”

Arthur dropped Merlin, who stumbled and gasped, but before he even fully recovered he felt the sharp point of Arthur’s sword on his chest. He straightened and pressed himself into the wall, trying to get as far from the blade as possible.

“If you had anything to do with this, Merlin, you’ll be hanged beside your lover.” He said it calmly, but there was rage in his voice. In his eyes. Rage, and something else. He looked Merlin up and down, tall and pale and thin, completely helpless in this moment. Completely at his mercy.

“Let me explain, please!” Merlin interrupted Arthur’s thoughts with this plea. With an angry curl in his lip, Arthur pulled the sword back, ready to swing, and Merlin cried out and flinched. But he did not take the swing. Instead he dropped his sword in defeat, and it clattered loudly to the stone floor. Merlin looked between him and the sword, untrusting. And all the sudden Arthur hated seeing him look at him that way. Once more he leaned on his arms on the table.

“He only wanted to serve and protect Camelot,” Merlin said quickly. “His whole life all he ever wanted was to be a knight! You would never have considered him if you knew he was lowborn but we knew he was worthy and could fight, the crest was only to get you too let him prove to you-“

“That’s enough, Merlin.”

“Arthur, he is the best warrior you could hope for right now, he drove the beast off singlehandedly when I first met him! I trust him!”

“More than that, by the looks of it.”

Merlin fell silent. This was going nowhere. All he had managed to do was implicate himself. Now he would be responsible for Lancelot’s death, as well as his own.

“Do you love him?” Arthur asked suddenly, quietly.

Merlin blinked in surprise, and choked out, “He deserved a chance-“

“That is not what I asked.” Arthur turned to him. “Do you. Love him?”

“What does it matter? It doesn’t change what we’ve done.”

“It matters to me.”

“Arthur-“

“Get out.”

Merlin did not argue. He turned on his heel and ran. He ran down corridors and around corners, and his feet seemed to have a mind of his own, and he found himself at the dungeons. Before he went in, he leaned against the wall to catch his breath. His head was spinning. After a few moments he decided he did not want to think about any of it.

He found Lancelot sitting alone in a cell, where he looked abnormally small. Merlin leaned against the bars, looking in, feeling shameful and disgusting. This was his doing, and his alone.

“I don’t know what to say to you, Lancelot,”

“You’re not to blame.”

“Yes I am. I pushed you. I made you lie.”

“The choice was mine. And mine alone.”

“I wish there was something I could do.”

“There is. You can stop blaming yourself.”

Merlin shook his head. How was this not knightly behavior? It took a fiercely loyal and powerful man to be able to say things like this, and to mean them as Lancelot did.

“I don’t love you?” He blurted out suddenly. Lancelot looked up at him, then stood and put his hands on top of Merlin’s.

“You don’t need to love somebody to care deeply for them.”

Merlin visibly relaxed. “Why do you always know exactly the right thing to say?”

“You make being genuine easy, Merlin.” He smiled softly. “Though that did sound more like a question than a statement.”

“Because I don’t know how to feel! And when you get out-“

“When I get out? Merlin this isn’t a prison sentence, I am to be executed.”

“Well, that’s what they think. But I’m going to get you out.”

Lancelot was taken aback. “You can’t, it’s too dangerous! You’ve already risked enough for me.”

“Arthur knows.” Merlin said quickly. 

Lancelot hesitated, taking it in. “Knows what?”

“He knows I helped you.”

“Oh, Merlin,” Lancelot stepped back from the cell door, shaking his head slowly. His foolish ambition had doomed this poor man…

“And he knows about us. He knows everything.” Merlin averted his eyes as he said this, not daring to look at Lancelot.

“What?”

“He asked if I loved you and I didn’t know what to say.”

“He…” At present, neither of them knew what to say.

Merlin shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m not in a cell next to you...”

Lancelot looked at Merlin until the silence forced Merlin to make eye contact with him. “I do,” he said. “Arthur has feelings for you.”

Merlin let out a laugh despite himself, then his face drew up in perplexed confusion.

“Prince Arthur?”

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And how you look at him.”

“How I look at him?”

“I don’t blame you. He is very handsome, and brave, and impressive.”

The floor seemed to sway beneath Merlin’s feet. This was too much. A few days ago he had no thoughts of this kind, and now? Now he had spent multiple nights in the arms of another man. He had lost his innocence to a man, and had loved every second of it. He had seen his prince and master in a new light, for the first time realizing how attractive he was, and they had even kissed. And on top of that he had seen Arthur and Lancelot fight each other, and had thoroughly enjoyed witnessing that.

He was a nobody. Nothing in his small life should have any effect on anything else, and yet here he was. A man in prison, sentenced to execution because of him. The prince of the realm had planted a kiss upon his lips and was apparently now wallowing in uncertainty.

“That’s why he asked if I loved you?” Merlin asked quietly.

“He is jealous.”

“Don’t be ridiculous-“

“I mean it, Merlin.” They looked at each other, and Merlin saw the seriousness in Lancelot’s face, and before he could stop it, he was crying.

“I never wanted any of this,” he said in a small voice. Lancelot reached through the bars and put one hand on Merlin’s shoulder, one on his face.

“Merlin, it’s okay. All I ever wanted was a chance, and you gave that to me. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

A bell chimed in the distance, and Merlin said quietly, “I need to go.” Lancelot nodded, and brought his arms back to his sides.

“Go.”

“I’ll be back. I am going to get you out of here!”

“Go, Merlin.”

Merlin tore his eyes away from Lancelot and hurried away. He would be back. He would break Lancelot out of his wrongful imprisonment, and if he could not restore him his knighthood, then he would get him out of Camelot and to somewhere he would be treated as the gentleman he was.


	13. Chapter 13

Merlin slunk into the physician’s rooms. He was late to his duties in helping Gaius, but the physician was too engrossed in an ancient book to mind.

“Merlin,” he said as Merlin entered.

“Whatever you do, don’t say ‘I told you so.’” He considered confiding in Gaius, telling him the rest… but why burden the man?

Gaius turned to face him. “I have no wish to gloat, Merlin. What’s done is done.” Gaius returned to his book. Done for him, perhaps. But Merlin was not done yet. “Here,” Gaius interjected into his thoughts. “Come and take a look at this. I’ve realized my mistake.” Merlin dragged himself to his feet. “I’ve been looking for the creature in the wrong place – in the records of all known living things in the kingdom. And then I thought, ‘but what about creatures only recorded in legend, in myth?’” He showed Merlin the page the book was open to. “And then I found this.”

“That’s it!” Merlin pointed at the picture, and for a moment Lancelot’s plight went to the back of his mind. “That’s the monster.”

Gaius and Merlin looked at each other somberly. A magical creature. Suddenly the warning bells began clanging, and noises erupted from the square beneath the window. The pair hurried to see.

The beast was here. It swept low over the courtyard, screeching. People were running every which way, terrified and confused. From the exterior yards, Arthur and a troop of knights burst in, already dressed in armor for training.

“On me! On me!” Arthur called to his knights. They swarmed around him, red cloaks billowing, swords up and shields ready. “Defense!” They took their positions. The monster had taken notice of them. It beat its wings and circled them, level with the highest windows. Its talons and beak glinted when they caught they sun, matching the flashes off the knight’s metal from below.

Merlin leaned out his window, watching in earnest.

“Merlin, come away!” Gaius said, but Merlin needed to see this. The demon screamed again, loud and horrible, and then dove toward the knights.

“Arthur!” Merlin shouted, but his voice was drowned out in the din as shields clanged and men shouted.

Lancelot, below the square in his cell, stretched hopelessly up toward his small window. He could hear the clamor and chaos, but could not see any of it. He abandoned the window and ran to his cell door, grabbing the bars and shaking them.

“What’s happening!?”

The beast had toppled Arthur, spilling his knights across the cobbles, but had not harmed any beyond a few bruises. It was playing with them. The men regrouped behind the prince, and as the monster landed across the courtyard, they began to advance. It hissed its warning, but Arthur’s face was set.

“CHARGE!” He hollered, and they did. They ran forward, but leapt back out of the sweep of massive claws and dodged the clapping beak. Arthur got the closest, at which Merlin grabbed his hair in anxiety. Spear in hand, Arthur thrust forward, then again, and then came the sound of wood splintering. Arthur looked at his broken spear, now no better than a broom handle, then back up at the creature, and even from his high place Merlin could see the fear in Arthur’s eyes.

The fiend reared and shrieked. It slashed at Arthur, who fell backwards, hard. He instinctively raised his shield, but it looked a pitiful defense against such wild power.

A door sprang open along the wall, and more knights poured out, the lead carrying a torch. He threw it, and it rolled across the stones. Arthur reached for it and swung it between himself and the beast, anything to create distance and time. From above, Merlin watched in stunned silence as the monster shrank away from the flame, baying and screeching. Arthur waved the torch back and forth, thrusting it forward. The animal seemed to decide this hunt was now more work than it was worth, for with an angry scream it kicked off the ground and flew off. Arthur watched it go, breathing heavy, still holding the burning light.

Merlin realized he had been holding his breath, and he gasped in relief. Perhaps Camelot’s doom had been put off for another day.

Shortly after the standoff, Merlin and Gaius were in the throne room when the prince and king entered. Merlin’s entire body was stiff, his breathing shallow. The moment the prince saw him, he was sure he was doomed. Arthur would point at him and shout ‘traitor!’ and he would be revealed to the king. And Gaius would have to endure the sight of Merlin being lead to the dungeons to await execution.

The king said something, but Merlin could only hear his heart beating in his ears. He was watching Arthur while also avoiding looking at him directly, as if this would conceal him. Arthur and the king exchanged more words that Merlin did not comprehend, and then he was snapped back to the present when Gaius spoke beside him. The king and prince both looked their way, and for the briefest of moments Merlin accidentally caught Arthur’s eye. Something flashed behind his gaze, and Merlin could still feel Arthur’s eyes on him after he had averted his eyes to the floor. The prince was probably weighing his options. Reveal Merlin’s treachery now, get it over with. Or leave him in this state of terror and uncertainty, a punishment on par with his inevitable execution.

“This Griffin is a creature of magic.”

The king’s eyes immediately darkened at the word. “I don’t have time for this, physician,” he said coldly. Merlin risked a glance at Arthur, having felt his eyes leave him. The prince was watching Gaius now, considering his words.

“It is born by magic, sire,” Gaius insisted, “and it can only be killed by magic.”

“You are mistaken. It’s a creature of flesh and blood like any other. Arthur proved that today.”

“I’m not so sure, father,” Arthur looked up at the king. These were the first words he had spoken since entering the hall, and they were not to condemn his manservant. “I think there might be some truth in what he says.”

“What truth?”

“The griffin was unharmed, sire. Our weapons seemed useless against it.”

“Useless? I think not.” He turned to leave. “No. It’s tasted our steel once. The next time will be its last. When will your knights be ready to ride again?”

“An hour,” Arthur said dryly. “Maybe two.”

“Good. We finish this tonight.”

As the king left, Arthur looked back at Merlin. Gaius noted the intensity of the stare, and glanced at his assistant, then back at the prince.

“I shall return to my research,” Gaius muttered, and shuffled from the room. Arthur waved two knights away, and then he and Merlin were alone.

Merlin swallowed hard. Was this it? He kept his back straight and his hands clasped before him as the prince approached, his eyes downcast. Arthur got close to him, examining his face, but did not speak. Eventually Merlin could not stand it any longer and croaked out, “Sire-“

“Any other time, Merlin,” Arthur cut him off, “and the king would be deciding between the axe and the rope for you." Merlin dared look at Arthur, mouth ajar in shock. Just that movement, tilting his head up slightly to look at the prince, had made their mouths even closer. Arthur looked at Merlin’s lips, then back into his eyes. “But the circumstances are dire, and I realize you were doing what you thought was right. What you thought was best for Camelot.” Merlin couldn’t believe it. His breath was caught in his throat. After a moment, Arthur pulled back. “I don’t know how you managed it, but you had us all fooled for a moment.” With that, he turned on his heel and strut out of the hall, leaving Merlin shaking and alone.


	14. Chapter 14

Merlin was weary when he returned to his quarters, but he and Gaius had much to discuss. They spoke gravely, in low voices, and despite his fear and uncertainty and overall ill feeling, Merlin knew what had to be done. He had to face the creature with his magic, or Arthur would die. There was nothing for it. It had to be done. Arthur had said two hours. Two hours. So the pair got to work, pulling out the ancient leather-bound books that just might contain something about this Griffin.

Below, Lancelot sat in silence. Nobody had told him the outcome of the previous battle, and so he was left to wonder if the worst had happened, and if the Prince had fallen prey to the beast.

He was pulled from his stupor by the clanging of his cell door swinging open, and the prince himself entered the small room. Lancelot stood. Relief flooded through him, but was almost immediately chased away by fear. The prince was here to take him away for execution, surely. Or perhaps he was to be used as bait to lure the beast into a trap that was doomed to fail. Or perhaps the prince was simply going to run him through where he stood, putting an end to his shame swiftly.

“I should have known. How could I have been so stupid?!” Arthur shouted. “You don’t sound like a knight. You don’t even look like a knight!”

“I’m sorry-“

“I’m sorry, too. Because, Lancelot, you fight like a knight.” Lancelot nodded slightly. He knew that. Didn’t matter. “And then you drag Merlin through the mud.” Lancelot looked up at this.

“I never meant for him to be a part of this. When I found him in the woods-“

“Well he is a part of it, isn’t he? You toyed with an innocent’s kind heart and look where it has gotten him.”

“He’s not-“ Lancelot couldn’t finish the sentence.

“No.” Arthur looked at the wall. “I decided not to tell my father. Merlin made a mistake, but he did it for Camelot. For me. He will not die for that.”

Lancelot leaned back against the wall and exhaled deeply. Good.

“I never manipulated him, sire.” He needed Arthur to know that. “You are right, he has a kind heart.”

“Too kind for his own good.” 

“He would have helped me whether or not I had agreed.”

Arthur nodded, and said quietly, “I know.”

“I did not mean to take him from you,”

Arthur looked up at him. “You didn’t – you are mistaken.”

Lancelot offered a small bow. “Of course, sire,” he said, but both men knew the truth. They looked at each other, their gaze deep. Lancelot opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again when no words came to mind.

“I need…” Arthur trailed off, his eyes searching Lancelot’s face. Suddenly he gave his head a little shake and cleared his throat, and his eyes changed. “Camelot needs,” he started again, once more leaving his sentence unfinished.

“The creature.” Lancelot went along with the prince having changed the tone.

“We could not kill it.” His face was grave. “I have never faced its like.”

“I faced it myself, sire, some days past.”

“So Merlin said.”

“I struck it full-square,” Lancelot continued, worried that if he, too, said Merlin’s name, all would fall apart. “I wondered how it endured.”

“There are those that believe this creature, this griffin, is a creature of magic, that only magic can destroy it.” Arthur seemed to be choosing his words carefully. Lancelot knew how the Pendragons thought of Magic, and yet here was the prince, admitting the possibility.

“Do you believe this?”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe. The use of magic is not permitted. The knights must prevail with steel and sinew alone.”

“Sire,” Lancelot agreed with a nod.

“There is a horse waiting outside.”

Lancelot stole himself the beginnings of a smile. “Thank you. Thank you, sire.”

“Lancelot. Take it and never return to this place.”

Lancelot’s heart dropped like a stone in a well.

“No. No, please,” he closed the distance between he and Arthur. “It’s not my freedom I seek. I only wish to serve with honor.”

“I know.”

“Then let me ride with you, sire.”

“I cannot.” Arthur looked him hard in the eyes. “My father knows nothing of this, I release you myself. But I can do no more. Now go before I change my mind.” Arthur turned away and stepped out of the door, allowing Lancelot exit.

Lancelot stood perfectly still for a moment, thoughts rushing through his mind. He knew saying one more word might ruin this chance, but he had to risk it.

“Merlin,” he said. Arthur looked back at him, his expression unreadable. “I must say goodbye.”

“Will you?”

“Sire?”

“Will you say goodbye? Or will you ask him to leave with you?”

Lancelot blinked, stunned.

“He would never leave you, sire-“

“I’m not so sure-“

“I am.” And he was. Merlin would not say it, and he did not see it, but Lancelot did. The bond between the prince and his servant was braided with more than simple duty. There was something more powerful at work there, something deeper and unbreakable.

There was nothing else to say, and so Lancelot left. But he did not go to the horse. He made for the smithy.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, my lady.” Gwen looked around as he entered. She had heard what had happened, of course.

“Lancelot! What are you doing here?”

“I have no time to explain. I need weapons, armor. The best you’ve got.”

“But what’s this all about?” Gwen stood and walked toward him.

“Arthur stands in mortal peril. It must do what I can to protect him. It’s my duty, knight or not.”

“You really believe that, don’t you?”

“Yes, my lady.”

Gwen shook her head slowly. “Lancelot, I don’t believe I have ever met your like before.”

“Guinevere, if I should not return-“

“Don’t go, Lancelot. Please. Merlin cannot lose you both in one battle.”

Lancelot set his jaw. Of course she knew. She was far too intelligent not to, and she and Merlin were too close.

“But go I must.”

As Lancelot prepared, and Merlin tried again and again to enchant a blade to kill the beast, and Arthur and his men rode across the cobbles of the courtyard, Gwen was running through the palace.

“Merlin!” She burst into the physician’s rooms. “Lancelot’s riding out the kill the griffin.”

“He’s what?” Merlin asked breathlessly. Why did he have to be so like Arthur! Gwen shrugged, equally distraught. Without a moment’s hesitation, Merlin broke into a run. How Lancelot had gotten out of his cell was beyond Merlin – he had planned on letting him loose after the creature had been taken care of, sure the execution would wait until after the immediate threat had been neutralized. But now, both Lancelot and Arthur were to be slain by the monster, and all because Merlin could not conjure a stupid charm.

Merlin found Lancelot in the stables, just finishing tacking his horse.

“I’m coming with you.”

“No. You’re not.”

“Just try and stop me.” There was an awful amount of confidence in his voice, despite Lancelot having bested him in training now long ago.

“Merlin, you’re not a soldier!”

“You said it yourself! Arthur needs all the help he can get. Now let’s go!”

Lancelot saw Merlin would not see reason, and he himself did not have time to talk it into him – or even to tie him to a post in the stables and keep him safe whether he liked it or not. And so he clenched his jaw and nodded.

Dusk fell quickly. With it came an eerie fog. The knights gathered at the edge of the forest, at the edge of their doom. As though it had been waiting for them, the beast stepped out from behind the trees. Arthur drew his sword and held it high. He took a shaky breath, and bellowed,

“For Camelot!”

His knights echoed his cry as they, too, drew their swords.

Lancelot and Merlin were a few hundred meters away, but turned toward the clamor that ensued. It erupted out of nowhere, just moments after they heard Arthur’s unmistakable voice shout for victory for his kingdom. Lancelot spurred his horse toward the fray, Merlin close behind. Already shouts of courage had bled into feeble screams of death. The creature had done its work quickly, so that when Merlin and Lancelot entered the shallow valley, all they saw was red. Men in their dark cloaks were strewn about the ground, chainmail dim and cold in the twilight. The men slid off their horses and ran between the knights, checking for signs of life. Their hope faded with each still heart they found. Merlin’s pulse, on the other hand, was rising. Where was Arthur?

There. Laying limp against a boulder, legs and arms at jerked angles, like a doll dropped during play.

“Arthur-“ Merlin ran to him and dropped to his knees, pressing his fingers against his neck. He was shaking so badly that it took a moment to find the spot. He felt Lancelot appear over his shoulder.

“Well?”

“He’s alive,” Merlin breathed. For now.

Just then the creature screeched, the muffling fog making it impossible to tell just how close it was. They searched the trees with their eyes, then scanned the skies. Nothing. But it was undoubtedly close, and coming closer still.

They looked at each other, then Lancelot nodded and went to his horse. Merlin looked around once more, and then there it was. It materialized in the haze, silhouetted by the moonlight. For a moment it was just the two of them, the beast and the warlock, with the prince unconscious between them and the gallant Lancelot somewhere off to the side. But gallant he was indeed, for he rode his horse between them and back a few yards before pulling it round to face the demon. It tore its eyes from Merlin, registering Lancelot as the newest threat, and shrieked its displeasure.

Lancelot dropped his visor down over his eyes, and in that moment he looked like a regal painting. Shrouded in mist, tall atop his steed, donned in armor winked with the light of the moon, baring a mighty lance. The chill air bristled with anticipation.

“Okay, Merlin. It’s now or never.” Lancelot reared his horse and charged, and the creature did the same. Merlin began chanting, then he began to shout the spell, pouring everything he had into it, willing it to work. It must. It must.

The tip of Lancelot’s weapon began to glisten, and then to glow. Blue sparks and streaks of light radiated from it as he galloped forward, and when he struck the beast the noise was infernal. It cried out as its wings gave out mid-air, and with the lance in its belly, it crumpled and fell from the sky, landed hard behind Lancelot’s mare.

Merlin immediately started laughing, elated beyond words. He’d done it. Lancelot had done it!

Lancelot removed his visor and they looked at each other, breathless with disbelief. Something stirred to Merlin’s side. Arthur was waking up. Merlin looked back at the mounted warrior, then ran to hide himself. Arthur must not see him. Only Lancelot. As he ran, he heard Arthur say Lancelot’s name. “You did it! You killed it, Lancelot!” Merlin beamed, unable to contain his joy, and whooped and laughed as he ran to tell Gaius it had worked.

“You did it?” The old man asked.

“I did it,” he replied. He had meant to say Lancelot did it. Because he had. But. So had he.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'know that one tag? Yeah. This is it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -sexie time  
> -grand finale!  
> -love to hear your thoughts! it really helps creators when we get feedback, it shows our work is appreciated, and encourages us to keep making more.

Merlin found Lancelot standing outside of the council hall, looking exhausted. He heard muffled shouting from within.

“Well, what are they doing?”

Lancelot gestured wearily. “Deciding my fate.”

They could not make out any of the words from inside as they stood uneasily beside each other. Until, that is, Arthur’s voice broke through the heavy wooden doors as he shouted, “Then the code is wrong!”

Lancelot and Merlin looked at each other.

“They’ll restore your knighthood,” Merlin insisted. “Of course they will. You killed the Griffin.”

“But I didn’t kill the Griffin,” Lancelot said, his back to Merlin. Merlin walked up to him so he could drop to a whisper. He forced a small laugh.

“That’s ridiculous.”

To his astonishment, Lancelot recited a piece of the incantation Merlin had used just minutes before, in the woods. Merlin quickly looked over his shoulder, but the guards by the door had heard nothing.

“I heard you.” Lancelot said. He had his soft brown eyes set on Merlin’s. “I saw you.” Merlin swallowed hard, uncertain of what to say. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. But I cannot take the credit for what I did not do.”

Merlin relaxed, daring a small smile. It honestly felt amazing, having somebody else know. But now was not the time for that.

“They’ll be no more lies,” Lancelot continued. “No more deceit.”

“What are you going to do?”

“The only thing I can do.” Before Merlin could stop him, Lancelot went and pushed open the heavy doors. Arthur and the king looked around.

“What is this?” The king demanded, offended. The guards reached for Lancelot and grabbed him by the arms, pulling him back.

“Let me speak!”

“Wait!” The king nodded. “I’ll hear him.” The guards let him go and stepped back. Lancelot took a deep breath, collecting himself.

“Forgive me, sire. I’ve come to bid you farewell.” He said it to both, but he was speaking to Arthur.

“What is this, Lancelot?” Arthur shook his head.

“I lied to you both, and now there is conflict between you. I cannot bear that burden, as you should not bear mine. I must start again, far from here. Then maybe one day fate shall grant me another chance to prove myself a worthy knight of Camelot.” Merlin watched from the doorway, holding his breath.

“But, Lancelot, you’ve already proved that to us.” Arthur’s voice was gentle and genuine as he stepped toward him.

“But I must prove it to myself.”

The king looked away. This was remarkably honorable behavior from a lowborn man. Lancelot bowed, and addressed the king. “Your highness.” Then he shifted his gaze to Arthur, looked at him through his brows. “Prince Arthur,” he said. He backed out of the room, and with a final glance at the prince he left. Arthur stood in the center of the room, wounded and silent.

Merlin looked after Lancelot, then to Arthur. Their eyes met, but what Arthur’s were saying, Merlin did not know. He took off after Lancelot.

“Lancelot where are you going?”

“To your room, to get my things. Beyond that, I do not know.”

“You can’t leave!”

“I must.”

Merlin followed him, not saying another word until he closed his bedroom door behind him and put himself between Lancelot and the exit. Lancelot picked up his bag, and sighed.

“Merlin. Please move.”

“It’s not right.”

“Merlin,”

“I’m going with you.”

“You are not.” Lancelot was touched, but if he showed this to Merlin, it was only harden the boy’s resolve. He tried to lighten the mood, “Please move or I will move you myself,” he said as he stepped closer, a coy smile on his lips. Merlin wasn’t having it, so Lancelot dropped the pretense. “Merlin, I must leave. Don’t make me leave with our final words together being sour.”

Merlin did not move for a moment, and then his shoulders sagged. He buried his face in his hands. Lancelot gently put his bag down and put his hands on Merlin’s waist.

“Merlin, I am sorry.”

Merlin looked up at him, and he put his fingertips on Lancelot’s face and kissed him. Lancelot wrapped his arms low around Merlin’s back and pulled him in, off the door. Merlin melted into his embrace, relishing in his touch, trying to stretch the moment into an eternity. The knowledge that Lancelot had to leave soon tugged at the back of both of their minds, but they would not let it ruin this.

Somebody knocked on the door. It was so abrupt that they both jumped, Merlin letting out a surprised grunt as he pulled away from Lancelot. With startled eyes he looked at Lancelot, who also had no idea what to do.

“Uh…” Merlin stuttered. “Gaius?”

“It’s me, Merlin.” It was Arthur. Merlin started to panic, and then Lancelot did the worst possible thing. He opened the door.

“Lancelot,” Arthur said stupidly.

“Yes, sire. I was just leaving. Getting my things.”

“Right.” Arthur looked at him for a moment more, then he looked between them. “I am sorry.”

“You did everything you could, sire.” Lancelot assured him. “I am indebted to you.” 

“Surely it is I who is in debt to you, Lancelot. You saved my life, and my kingdom.”

Lancelot said nothing, and for a moment Merlin worried he would deny it, but shook the thought away. Lancelot had given his word he would keep Merlin’s secret.

“He’s welcome.” Merlin said. “I mean, you’re welcome. From him. He says you’re welcome.”

Lancelot smiled at Merlin’s stammering, and he and Arthur shared a brief, endearing look.

“Well,” Arthur said. “I would expect you should be gone before too long, Lancelot. Best be well on your way before night falls.”

“Arthur,” Merlin started, but fell silent. He knew Arthur’s hands were tied. He wondered for a moment if he knew Lancelot would be here, or if he had come for Merlin.

“Gather your… things. And you are still welcome to a horse. It’s the least I can do.” Arthur nodded, and Lancelot bowed. The prince turned to leave, getting two steps down the little flight of stairs before Lancelot said,

“Sire…” Arthur looked back. “Stay.”

Merlin felt his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. What. What?

Arthur seemed to be having the same reaction, though he was doing a better job hiding it.

“Please.” Lancelot added. He held his hand out for Arthur to take, and at the same time he put his other hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “It’s not my place, but… I think…”

Arthur came back up the stairs, eyes trained on Lancelot. He brushed his extended hand aside.

“You think what?”

Lancelot looked about to say something. He opened his mouth, and then bit his lip. And with a small shake of his head, as if to gather his courage, he kissed the prince.

Merlin’s heart skipped a beat.

Arthur pulled back sharply with a startled inhale. His eyes flickered up and down Lancelot, processing what had happened. He looked to Merlin, who dared not move, and then back to Lancelot.

Surely he was about to draw his sword and cut him down. He… there was no way this was acceptable. No way this was happening. Impossible.

Arthur stepped in toward Lancelot, prompting the other man to take a step back, and he reached his arm behind him. To draw a weapon. But instead his hand found the door, and without looking back he swung it shut behind him.

Merlin looked between Arthur and Lancelot, astonished and deeply, utterly confused. His brain was repeating a warning bell to him, ‘no no no no no’ over and over. This was not happening, or it was not supposed to be happening, or he was being tricked or trapped or deceived. And yet before his very eyes the prince of the realm reached forward and took hold of Lancelot by the chin, and pulled him in and kissed him hard. They were both still donned in mail and spaulders, and their metal suits clattered against each other as they pressed their lips together.

Arthur parted his lips and Merlin heard his deep inhale cut short by Lancelot’s eager mouth. They exchanged control, first one leaning in and then the other. The initial shock started to ebb from Merlin, and he suddenly remembered a few days back when he had seen Lancelot and Arthur fighting with broomsticks, and how that had made him feel. And it felt like absolutely nothing compared to this. He felt himself shift in his trousers. 

Arthur pulled away from Lancelot, one hand resting against his gorget, the plate of armor protecting his upper chest and neck, and the other hand at his side. Lancelot’s were gently on Arthur’s arms. Arthur was looking down at his hand between them, but he wasn’t really seeing it. His head was reeling. 

“Sire-“ Lancelot said softly.

“Not… It’s Arthur.”

Lancelot nodded. “Arthur.”

The prince looked over at Merlin, who snapped his jaw shut. “Merlin,” he said softly, and extended the hand that had been at his side.

If a facial expression could be put into words, Merlin’s would simply have been a question mark.

Lancelot held out a hand, too.

His head full of fog, Merlin stepped toward them. Lancelot’s arm looped around his back, while Arthur’s hand came to rest on his arm. Merlin could not take his eyes off Arthur, and as he came nearer, he closed the distance and kissed him. He felt Lancelot’s lips on his neck near his ear. He shivered. Lancelot withdrew from them and Merlin was vaguely aware of him beginning to remove his armor, but in his absence Arthur put both his hands on Merlin’s face and kissed him harder. Merlin’s arms had a mind of their own, and grabbed Arthur’s waist.

God’s bones, this felt good. Arthur clutched at Merlin’s face, pulling him in with passion. One hand went around the back of his head and he stretched his fingers through Merlin’s hair, then suddenly grabbed it and yanked Merlin’s head back. Merlin gasped, and closed his eyes when Arthur’s lips connected with his neck.

Merlin began blindly fumbling with Arthur’s sword belt. He had undone it hundreds of times, so the clasp came loose easily in his hands, and he dropped it. He almost expected Arthur to tell him to be careful when it clattered to the floor, but instead the prince kicked it behind him, out of the way. Lancelot was back, reaching a hand between them. He put his finger under Arthur’s chin and tilted it up, pulling his mouth off of Merlin’s neck. He had removed his hauberk so he was just in his trousers and blouse. Arthur stepped back to remove layers, but his fingers kept slipping on the buckle of his pauldron. Lancelot helped him, gently lifting the armor off his shoulders, then tugging at the hauberk as Arthur lifted his arms and slipped out of it.

Somehow this felt less intimidating to Merlin, the three of them wearing the same level of attire, their armor now off and out of the way. He realized he had not said anything since it all had begun, and suddenly felt like there were words caught in the back of his throat, but what they were he did not know. Before he could overthink it all Arthur was back on him, palming him through his pants and kissing him. Lancelot came up behind him and took hold of his waist, kissing the back of his neck. Arthur abandoned Merlin’s lips and he and Lancelot reconnected over his shoulder.

Merlin was caught between them, the heat of both of their bodies mingling with his own. Arthur’s chest was pressed against his own, and he could feel Lancelot’s cock hard against his backside. He was hard, too, and he moaned into Arthur’s neck as he continued to rub him with his hand.

Lancelot broke away from them and took each by the hand, backing toward their corner. Beside him, Merlin felt Arthur hesitate. For a moment he feared the dream was collapsing, but then Arthur pointed and asked,

“Um, is that my blanket?”

“Oh,” Merlin said. “Yes.”

Arthur nodded. “Convenient.” He took his hand back from Lancelot and removed his shirt, revealing his strong torso. All apprehension had apparently left him. Everything felt smoother, and Merlin sensed the last of his own worry leave him. This was happening, and it was glorious.

Lancelot, making hard eye contact with Arthur, sank to his knees on the blanket. Merlin inhaled sharply, almost squeaking in anticipation. Lancelot touched either side of Arthur’s muscled abdomen and kissed his lower stomach. Arthur sighed contentedly, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He put one hand in Lancelot’s hair, gently holding on to it, not gripping hard but promising that he could. He moaned quietly as Lancelot sucked lightly as his flesh just above his waistline.

Merlin joined him from behind, kissed his shoulder. Arthur’s free arm reached back and touched Merlin’s neck, pulling him in so that their lips met. His mouth was open just enough for his hot breath to mix with Merlin’s as he gently bit on his lower lip. 

All the sudden Arthur’s breath caught in his throat and he all but froze, and Merlin knew Lancelot had tugged his trousers down enough to get his mouth on Arthur’s cock. He took over as lead, kissing Arthur aggressively, running his hand up Arthur’s hard abs. He felt a hand on his hip, and honestly was not sure whose it was, and he separated from Arthur just long enough to take his shirt off and cast it away.

Merlin shuddered as Lancelot’s mouth flirted with his waistline, and gasped into Arthur’s mouth when he felt his trousers slip off. He stepped out of them, and although he knew it was coming, he let out an airy cry as Lancelot took his sex into his mouth. He looked down, mouth open. Lancelot carefully sucked on him, head moving back and forth, one hand on Merlin’s hip and the other wrapped around Arthur’s erection.

Arthur tilted Merlin’s head back up and kissed him, swallowing Merlin’s moans as Lancelot took him deeper into this mouth. All the sudden his cock was cold and alone, and he knew Lancelot had returned his attention to Arthur’s. He put his hand on himself, then felt Lancelot tug on his wrist. 

He backed his face away from Arthur’s, panting lightly. Now it was his turn to slowly drop to the blanket, watching Arthur bite his lip as he landed softly on his knees. His eyes swept down Arthur’s body, savoring the way his abs clenched and twitched as Lancelot did treasonous things with his tongue.

With Merlin beside him, Lancelot took his mouth off of Arthur’s penis and leaned in toward Merlin, silently asking permission. Merlin granted it, and when they kissed he noted the new taste. He had never had a man’s sex in his mouth before, and felt both giddy and wary. He realized suddenly that he had no idea what to do, and tried his best to remember what Lancelot had done, that first night they had been together like this.

Lancelot moved his lips across Merlin’s cheek, his neck, and moved himself so he was behind him, one of his legs between Merlin’s, both of them kneeling and facing Arthur. Merlin gingerly put his hand on Arthur’s cock. It was maybe a little shorter than Lancelot’s, and with a larger girth. 

Using Lancelot’s movements from a few nights past as his guide, Merlin kissed the tender flesh right at the base of Arthur’s dick, and then pressed his lips to the side. Arthur sighed, his hands in Merlin’s hair. Merlin moved to the tip of Arthur’s penis, tasting the surprisingly sweet wetness there.

Lancelot bit down lightly on Merlin’s shoulder, watching. He stroked his own cock as Merlin put his lips around Arthur’s, sliding it about an inch into his mouth before withdrawing again. He did this once more, then flicked his tongue along the underside, feeling the veins pulsing.

Lancelot pressed forward into Merlin, his erect penis rubbing tauntingly against the fault between his buttocks. He leaned around Merlin’s shoulder and pressed his open mouth to the base of Arthur’s cock. The prince let out a long, low moan, the feeling of two mouths pleasuring him almost too much.

The two men on their knees worked together, making way for the other as they moved back and forth, taking turns wetting the tip and shaft and base of Arthur’s dick. He had a hand on each of their head’s, pushing and pulling gently with their movements. Lancelot was gripping Arthur’s muscular ass, a signal to the prince that he was more confident with this than Merlin was.

Arthur took notice, for when he began to jolt as an orgasm began to build within him, he grabbed Lancelot’s hair with both hands. Merlin backed away, silently grateful he would not have to deal with the sticky aftermath. He moved back until he was leaning against the wall, surrounded by the plush comforter, and he held himself as he watched. 

Arthur tested Lancelot’s limits, and when he found he had not yet reached them, he took over control of the movements. He had two fistfuls of Lancelot’s long, dark hair, using it to hold the man from pulling away as he moved his hips forward and back.

Merlin felt heat rising in his own stomach as he watched Lancelot take Arthur’s entire penis into his mouth, in and out, the wet noises in his throat obscene and divine. In and out. In and out.

Arthur let out a series of gasping ‘oh oh oh’ as he neared his climax. He pulled Lancelot’s head into him, burying himself in his mouth. Lancelot welcomed it with a sloppy gag, squeezing Arthur’s ass with both hands, holding him close.

Arthur stayed in deep, his body convulsing as he leaned forward over Lancelot, eyes shut tight and mouth wide open. Merlin saw Lancelot’s back heave for lack of air, the sharp breaths he was drawing in through his nose not enough to satiate his body, but still he did not back away.

His orgasm hit him with a shuddering cry, and one of his hands jumped up to his face and clapped over his mouth to stifle the noise. Merlin had to snatch his hand away from his own penis so as to prevent himself from finishing right then, as well. Arthur bucked his hips forward once more as the air rushed out of his nose and small mewls escaped from between his fingers.

From his spot in the blanket, mere feet away, Merlin heard Lancelot’s labored swallowing around Arthur’s cock. Arthur twitched into stillness, then his hips jerked forward, knocking Lancelot off balance. He pulled his mouth off of Arthur with a gasp, falling back and catching himself on his hands, landing beside Merlin. He gulped for air, chest heaving, as the prince took deep, ragged breaths and let himself down to his knees.

Once he had gathered himself enough, Arthur let out a breathy laugh, the shock and pleasure still coursing through him.

“I might have to keep you around in spite of my father, Lancelot,” he managed to gasp out. “That… I’ve never…” 

Lancelot grinned, still panting. He looked back at Merlin, who responded with a half bewildered smile. His breathing was settling back to normal now, and he sat up and reached forward for Arthur, but the prince held up a hand.

“I need a moment,” he said.

Lancelot gestured between himself and Merlin. “You don’t mind if we-?”

Arthur shook his head, still focusing on recovering. “No, no. In fact I am sure I will welcome it, in a moment or two. I just… whew.” He sat back at the edge of the blanket.

Lancelot chuckled, then flipped over and crawled toward Merlin, still dressed in trousers and tunic.

“Aren’t you-?”

“Craving your body?” Lancelot finished the question, knowing full well that was not what Merlin had meant to say. “Yes.” It hit Merlin that this was probably not the first time Lancelot had been in a situation such as this. For a moment he felt a pang of jealously, then squashed the ridiculous thought. It was actually a bit of a relief. All signs pointed to Arthur having never been with a man before, and Merlin had only ever been one-on-one with Lancelot, so it was good to know somebody knew what they were doing.

And he was doing it now. He moved up Merlin’s body, planting his lips to his skin as he went, until he kissed him hard on the mouth. He sat up suddenly and pulled his shirt off, and dropped to the blanket, rolling onto his back. Merlin took the hint, and with a smile he swung one leg over and got on top of Lancelot, straddling him. Lancelot hummed happily at the feeling of Merlin sitting naked on his stomach.

“Kiss me,” he said, his kind eyes taking in the masterpiece that was Merlin. Merlin bent forward and closed his eyes as he kissed him, so that when Lancelot flipped them over he hadn’t seen it coming, and vocalized his surprise, a small noise Lancelot savored.

Now looking down at him, his hair hanging lose, framing his face, Lancelot spat into his palm and reached between them, tucking his hand into his pants. Merlin tugged at his waistband and helped him get rid of the trousers, all the while Lancelot was stroking his penis, wetting it. Then he spat into his hand and reached again, this time stroking his wet fingers against Merlin’s asshole.

Behind them, Arthur felt himself growing hard once more. It was a fast turnover, but the sight of Merlin on his back and Lancelot stooped over him… Fuck. He bit his lip and he gently began coaxing blood back into his cock. He watched the muscles in Lancelot’s back and ass shift beneath his skin as he ducked to suck at Merlin’s chest, fingers slowly working inside of him. Merlin cooed, and before long Arthur heard him say Lancelot’s name, all breathy and tight. His mouth fell open slightly at this. He needed to hear Merlin moan his name.

Lancelot replaced his fingers with the tip of his penis, and slowly pushed forward into Merlin. Merlin’s hands were on his back, stroking up and down. He shifted, adjusting himself to allow Lancelot deeper into him, and by the time Lancelot bottomed out, Arthur was on his feet.

“That feels good, that feels so good,” Merlin was muttering, eyes closed. He opened them and saw Arthur standing behind Lancelot. “Arthur,” he whispered. 

Lancelot looked halfway over his shoulder, and smiled at Arthur.

“Come here,” he said softly. “I want to feel you.”

Arthur dropped to his knees behind Lancelot and kissed the small of his back. Merlin felt Lancelot shudder at the touch as he rolled his hips gently back and forth. Merlin’s eyes rolled back in pleasure. His hand dropped from Lancelot’s back, and he felt Arthur take hold of his wrist. He gripped his in turn so that they were holding on to each other, tight. He kept his eyes closed, but he knew what was happening by how they moved and how they sounded.

Arthur’s cock was still slick with Lancelot’s saliva and his own cum, but he added some of his own spit just to be sure. He lined himself up with Lancelot’s ass, and Merlin felt Lancelot fall still so Arthur could do it easily. Lancelot buried his face in Merlin’s neck, and slowly, he felt a low purr rumbling up from his throat. He felt his body move forward as Arthur pushed into him, which in turn pushed him deeper into Merlin.

The two men beneath Arthur moaned together; Merlin’s lighter and airier, Lancelot’s full and low. Arthur’s eyelids fluttered at the erotic harmony. He was nearly all the way inside of Lancelot. He had, indeed, never before been with a man, and he knew that this is what pleasure was meant to feel like. This was right.

As his hips made contact with Lancelot’s backside, indicating he was fully sheathed inside the man, Lancelot groaned, his back heaving, the muscles of his shoulders rolling. Arthur exhaled, just then realizing he had been holding his breath. He pushed forward again, moving Lancelot further into Merlin, whose eyes flew open. Arthur squeezed his wrist as they made eye contact, and began rocking his hips back and forth.

Merlin wanted to keep looking into Arthur’s eyes, but Lancelot’s hot breath in his neck, Arthur’s pulse beneath his grip, the weight of them on top of him, the heat of them, the feeling of Lancelot’s dick fully inside of him… he was weak with euphoria. His head fell back to the blanket.

Arthur set the pace. He started slowly, allowing Lancelot to adjust, but then he was thrusting with more intensity. Merlin was overwhelmed in the best ways possible, gripping Arthur’s wrist as though it would stop him from falling into insanity. He briefly wondered how Lancelot was keeping it together, since his sensations must have been more or less doubled, being in between…

But Lancelot barely was keeping it together. He was in a state of agonal pleasure. Merlin was right, this was not his first time doing something like this, but it had never been with two men such as these. Never with somebody he cared for as he did Merlin. Never with two people who also had a bond with each other. It made all the difference. As Arthur fucked into him, his hand splayed across his back, and Lancelot in turn fucked Merlin, his thoughts felt like they were running through his head backwards. He would not last long like this.

He pushed his arms against the ground, pushing himself up so he was more or less on his hands and knees. This created a new angle for both he and Merlin, and Merlin whined beneath him, his breath catching as his body jolted with each of Arthur’s thrusts. He reached desperately through the air with his free hand, and as though he could read his mind, Arthur took his hand off Lancelot’s back and grabbed it. He pulled Merlin’s toward him, using him to move himself deeper into Lancelot, and creating the same result for the other two.

Together the three of them shifted and moaned and leaned into each other, moving as one, the air rippling with earnestness, with long overdue passion. Grunting and gasping, Arthur fucked into Lancelot hard, drawing lusty, fervid noises from the back of his throat. Merlin was reduced to whimpering, every so often letting out a gasp or airy cry when Lancelot slammed into him particularly hard, or hit a perfect spot deep within him.

Lancelot gasped, but instead of one gulp for air, he kept inhaling in short bursts, as though his lungs would not fill. His back arched, he threw his head back, and with a loud, low, drawn out “ohh!” he came, pumping himself empty into Merlin. As he orgasmed, every muscle in his body clenched and quivered, and his ass tightened so hard around Arthur’s cock that it almost hurt the man on top.

Arthur let out a hoarse sob, squeezing Merlin’s hands so tight there might very well be bruises later, and he, too, came. Lancelot was still riding out his own climax as he felt the prince pour into him, hot and thick. He collapsed on top of Merlin, head falling into his neck, exhausted, still twitching with pleasure.

Arthur, on his second orgasm of the night, fell from his peak faster this time. He dropped with Lancelot, catching himself. Lancelot was still going through it, and Arthur wanted him to enjoy every moment of it. He rolled his hips in small movements, just enough for Lancelot to feel, and he crooned beneath him.

Merlin could feel Lancelot’s cum inside of him, still seeping out of his cock. He had opened his eyes when Arthur made an unmistakable noise of orgasm. He wanted to see it. He wanted to see his prince climax. His face was contorted in beautiful agony, eyebrows drawn together, mouth hanging open. When he had recovered, he and Merlin had looked at each other, panting, as Lancelot quivered between them, still gasping through his own orgasm. 

At last Lancelot’s breathing steadied, and he looked sideways at Merlin, his face still in his neck. Merlin looked back at him as best he could, being so close. Lancelot smiled, but was so exhausted his eyes would not stay open long.

Carefully, Arthur began to pull out of Lancelot. He groaned, and then it was his turn to withdraw from Merlin. Merlin reached around for the small, thin blanket, and was ready to mop up the effect, but then Arthur was on top of him. Lancelot had rolled off to the side, where his breathing indicated he had promptly fallen asleep.

“Merlin, always the faithful servant,” Arthur said, taking the cloth from him. “You haven’t had your turn yet.”

“Arthur-” Arthur took Merlin’s penis in his hand, and without breaking eye contact, he slid his palm up and down, jerking him off, his face hovering just above Merlin’s, his body touching his.

Merlin, looking up into Arthur’s eyes, orgasmed, blinking as he felt his cum spatter over both of their chests. It was a quick one, and subsided soon, but it had been building all the while, and fuck it felt so good.

Arthur’s eyes flicked between Merlin’s eyes and his mouth, and he bent down and kissed his lips, gently and passionately. They kissed quietly for a few minutes, simply enjoying each other.

At length Arthur retrieved the cloth he had taken from Merlin and cleaned them up. Most of the mess had gone onto them, and Arthur’s thick blanket beneath them was still clean. Arthur shifted his weight off of Merlin and laid down next to him, and Merlin rolled on to his side, back to Arthur, and soon they were pressed together, spooning. Merlin reached out and gently touched Lancelot’s arm. His eyes flickered open and he smiled at them both, and wiggled toward them. He stayed on his back, but draped a hand out toward the other two. Merlin took it, and Arthur laid his hand on top of Merlin’s, so that they were all connected.

Merlin pushed from his mind the unwelcome truth about Lancelot’s imminent departure. ‘Let me enjoy this,’ he said, and the universe seemed to obey him.

He settled into Arthur’s embrace, who reached behind him and pulled the blanket loosely over all three of them.

“Goodnight, Merlin” he mumbled into his ear. They fell asleep together, all touching, all breathing as one.


End file.
